Elementary Calculations
by kcourtkat
Summary: After finding out about his magic earlier, a decidedly non-Gryffindor Harry Potter plots his way to success.
1. two plus two

1I disavow all claims to the rights of Harry Potter.

This is my second shot at a HP fanfic and my first multi chap. I hope you enjoy the story. The time line is pushed forward a bit so Harry will be starting Hogwarts in 2001 instead of 1991.

Elementary Calculations

Chapter 1: 2+2

_Bloody hell_.

Stomach roiling mutinously, Harry Potter pushed himself to his knees. The eight-year-old had been running from his cousin's gang of thugs, wishing desperately to be somewhere else, when he felt the uncomfortable squeezing sensation. A quick look around assured him that, no, Dudley and his band of morons were not behind him anymore. In fact, there was no one behind him, because he was no longer on the street. He had evidently disappeared off said street and reappeared on a roof.

_At which point I promptly tripped over my own feet and fell flat on my face. _

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair and ventured cautiously to the ledge of the building. The sounds of children playing teased his hearing as he looked out over the Surrey Primary School courtyard.

He stepped away from the edge and sat down, contemplative now. In the years he had lived with the Dursley's - namely his so called 'Aunt' Petunia, 'Uncle' Vernon, and Dudley -this was not the first time something strange had happened around him. Indeed, only last year, his English teacher had been berating him for not paying attention when she found herself wearing a blue -formerly brown - wig. Random points in his short life had been garnished with mysteriously moving toys, shrinking clothes, regrown hair, and, as of now, a completely unexplained appearance on the school roof.

_All of which get me lectures on freakishness,_ he thought, brows farrowed. _Think this through. Since I could understand them, all they go on about is how unnatural and freakish I am. They treat me like touching me might contaminate them. I have my own dish, my own cup, and I have to wash my clothes by hand separately from theirs. I have to clean the shower every time I use it. Vernon demanded that Dudley be put in a different class from me. Petunia always goes on under her breath about how I'm just as unnatural a waste of space as my worthless parents. My _freakish _parents. _

Previously, he thought that was just his relatives beings, well, themselves. Anything that didn't fit the way they thought it should, was labeled "freakish" or some other conjugation of the word. A wry smirk flitted across his lips. Goths were freaks, homosexuals were unnatural freaks, the homeless were worthless freaks, and foreigners were just freakish.

_They always go on about me though. Anything that goes wrong in that house is because of my freakishness. Even when I' m not there. _

_Nobody's ever accused me of being slow. _

They obviously knew something. Something that caused them to think that any unusual occurrences should be laid at his feet.

_Asking outright would get me nothing but time locked in that cell under the stairs._

Harry had learned when he was younger not to ask his relatives anything. If he wanted to know something, he had to either ask someone else, look it up himself, or keep quiet and hope they let something slip. Usually during one of their tirades about his worthlessness.

_I can't believe I'm related to those people._

Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley. While legally they were under the umbrella of family, he had never thought of them as anything of the sort: they were the people he had to share space with until he could legally leave. Number 4 Privet Drive was not a home: it was his prison until he was eighteen.

_Unless I can get into a private boarding school, on a scholarship of course, God knows they won't pay. Then I only have to worry about them in the summer._

This was the reason that Harry Potter was at the top of his class. He already researched viable schools at the public library. If he stayed at the top of his class till graduation and passed the entrance exams then he could spend as little time with his relatives as possible.

Not that they saw much of each other now. He was let out of his cupboard in the morning to wash up, get dressed, eat and leave for school. After school he went to the public library where he stayed and did his homework, read, and research until he had to leave to reach the Dursley's in time for dinner. After which he washed up and was locked in the cupboard for the night. Some days he never exchanged any words at all with Petunia and Vernon. They had next to nothing to do with his schooling other than providing his notebooks and book bag. The uniform was school issued and mandatory. His teachers had learned in the years not to mention his name when talking to the Dursley's. He never went on school trips or anything that required a parents signature.

Harry scowled. _Back to the matter at hand. They think that I can do things. The fact that I am up here shows that they are right. The references to my parents suggest that it might be hereditary. That they call my parents freaks doesn't mean much though since they call everyone not like them freaks. Except they say I'm just like my parents._

He sighed as the bell rung. The end of lunch. Then he cursed.

_How the hell am I supposed to get off? _Frantic green eyes spotted a door on the other side of the U-shaped roof. A dash to the door showed that it was locked.

"Now what? I can't be found up here. I would never hear the end of it. Damn it all to the bloody depths of -_Click_-...!"

Harry watched speechlessly as the formerly locked door swung in. Then he hurried down the stairs. The late bell would be ringing in a minute.

_Just like my parents._

_I can live with that._

Laughing softly, he made his way to class. He ignored the odd looks, they never played with him anyway.


	2. X plus Y

1I disavow all rights to Harry Potter.

Thank you to those who reviewed. Appreciation all around.

And by the way, there will be no horcruxes.

Chapter 2: X+Y

Nimble fingers flew over the keyboard as intense green eyes absorbed the information on the screen. Two hours of research had yielded a great deal of information. It was truly amazing what came up when you input 'mental and psychic powers.' Some of it was interesting, like several of the articles on telekinesis, but that alone did not explain seeming ability to teleport.

_Not to mention the sheer volume of stuff. How am I supposed to go about figuring out what can be credited and what can't be? I already know that I can make things move and change color, but so far I've only done it unconsciously and in distress. The effects also look to be random and uncontrolled._

A vision of himself reappearing on another road and in front of a vehicle flashed through his head.

_Today's incident could have ended much worse than it did. It's a wonder I didn't kill myself. My ability could plausibly come with a failsafe to insure my continued survival. I'd rather not risk it though._

Harry stretched to get the kink out of his neck and took a glance around the half empty library. A ten minute walk away from school, he had been a faithful regular at this location for two years. In that time he had learned a good deal by self study and with the help of the resident librarian. There really wasn't much else to do when you are by yourself more often than not. While Dudley was in a different class and so had different people to really focus on, he would still bully anyone who spent too much time with Harry on the playground or outside of school. Harry himself wasn't a regular target, but ever so often Dudley would turn his attention to him, hence today's scene. Also, why Harry had several casual acquaintances but no real friends.

Turning back to the computer, he sighed. It seemed that all the articles advocated the learning of meditation in order to increase control.

_I suppose it makes sense. So far I've only made things happen when I'm frustrated or in a rather negative mood. That can't possibly be healthy, and might contribute to how random the effects are. Or not so random._

He thought back to the shrinking clothes incident. Petunia, about four yeas ago, had been trying to get him into some hideous old sweater of Dudley's. The sweater had shrunk and kept shrinking until she stopped trying to get him into it. She muttered for the entire day after that.

Frowning slightly, he examined what came after. Up until that point, he had been wearing Dudley's cast offs, after however . . .

_I got new clothes that weekend. Well, not _new, _they were from a thrift shop, but she stopped giving me Dudley's outgrown stuff. They were more my size too. Every year after that I would get new clothes once a year, along with the yearly lecture on not abusing their charity. _

_So, my power manifests my subconscious desires. At least, that's how it seems now. If I were unconscious and in danger, would I disappear like I did today? Or would being unconscious be enough to keep it from working. I'm not sure which theory I prefer. If my power works while I'm unconscious, then that implies a pseudo-sentience that could, theoretically, work independently of my will. Then again, judging from how things have happened, it would be a symbiotic relationship right? _

He looked out of a window at the darkening sky, it was almost time to leave. A quick check in the library catalog revealed that, yes, there were several books on meditation available. Closing the program, he ventured over to the selection of books on meditative techniques.

This brought up another problem. Where exactly could he go to meditate? From what little he knew of the art, one had to have a place where you could concentrate without interruptions. Harry certainly didn't have that at the Dursley's, and there were people coming in and out of the library, not that he could use it anyway. After all, who knows what his power would do if he did achieve a meditative state? The local park was out as well, since that is where Dudley went after school.

_If it's not one thing, it's another. Of course, _he mused,_ there are only two months till summer vacation. It's not like my powers are going anywhere. I can continue my current schedule of coming to the library during the evenings. I can do most of my home work at lunch, by the time I get here there will only be a little left to do. I will read through all of these thoroughly. By the end of two months I should be well versed in several meditative theories. On the weekends I can go farther afield than the immediate vicinity. There must be somewhere in the surrounding area that is relatively deserted. When summer vacation starts I'll have the entire days to myself. _

Harry picked up his belongings and prepared for the half hour trip back to the Dursley's. Waving goodbye to the librarian, and wishing her a good evening, he went back to planning the next few months.

_I don't know how long it will take to get the meditation part down. It is quite likely that of the methods available maybe only one will work. I'll have to see which is the most comfortable and offers signs of improvement. Once I have that covered, I'll have to use a trial and error method to see what I can and can't do with my powers. I can lift things, maybe I should find out the upper limits of that. Start out with a sheet of paper or leaves and work my way up. _

_So the place I find should have stuff I can use to practice on._

_I can also change the colors of objects. Are some harder to change than others? Can I change more than the color?_

_I don't think I should try the teleport until I have much more knowledge of how my abilities work though . . ._

As the boy walked he was genuinely happy for the first time in a long while. With the rest of the school year to prepare, the summer would be both busy and enlightening.

AN: This is just something to set up the next chapter. I won't be going into the search and the rest of the time. The next chapter will have him at his chosen site and ready to start practicing. The Dursley's won't feature too much in this story so if you want something to explain their motivations I can write it if you ask.

AN2: I do realize that his vocabulary is very advanced, but this Harry wasn't raised like the one in canon with chores and such to do. He quite literally has nothing else to do but homework and reading at the library. The only people he has had actual conversations with for years are his teachers and the librarian. He is much more ahead than in canon.


	3. square root π

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you once again for the reviews. I'm glad that you all seem to like this story.

Please remember that in the first chapter I had indicated that the time line was pushed forward. It won't matter much for the WW side of things, but it does account for the non wizarding side.

For this chapter, Harry will be practicing in his newly found hide away. He will get a nasty shock during this chapter. We also get to see him at his most selfish.

Chapter 3: √π

Three weeks.

It had taken him three weeks of searching on the weekends to find the right place.

Two hours away from the Dursley's house, the place he chose was a good hour into the woodland that bordered Little Whining. He had spent three evenings after school in the third week pouring over maps of the woods before he even set a foot in there. Two more alternate evenings of exploring had brought pure gold.

There was a circle of trees that hid a small clearing a few minutes away from an infrequently used path. There was evidence that someone had been there before, but not for a very long time. Subsequent weeks were spent getting his body use to the walk that it would take just to reach his new hideaway. Cutting down on his reading, he had instead chosen to leave earlier and take the long way around to get to the house. It wasn't much, but he now had a little more endurance. The days after he had gone to the woods had been marked with exhaustion and cramps. A book on stretching and yoga had joined his list.

He had also taken to nicking a pound every day or two from Dudley's private stash. While he felt bad for the children that Dudley beat up to get that money, it was no reason for him not to benefit. It's not like Dudley missed it anyway. That money would be going toward getting him snacks to tide him over between breakfast and dinner.

_I can't believe how perfect this place is. _Smiling, he looked around. A cluster of beech trees blocked out most of the sunlight so that the clearing was largely in shadows. Winds shifting the branches would cause the sunlight to reach the ground in moving patterns. Sitting at the base of one of the trees, he dropped his book bag to the ground. Birds could be heard in other parts of the woods where more sunlight allowed bluebells and primroses to flourish. He took a moment to gather his breath. No one would be able to see him and if anyone approached, the snapping of twigs would give them away very quickly.

_So let's get started shall we? _Visualizing a small flame in his mind, he folded his legs comfortably and started on the first method recommended.

--

Twenty days later, Harry drifted along in a warm current. He was moving forward with the slow, smooth pulses when a disturbance made itself known. Frowning, both inside and outside his mind, he directed his attention to the outer boundary of his power.

It had taken two weeks to actually reach and hold a meditative state for more than a few minutes at a time. He had started using the ocean scene then, and had found himself almost immediately surrounded by a rush of pure power. During the intervening days, he had been exploring and expanding his awareness of his power and the outside world whilst still staying in meditation. It was not the first time he had sensed the disturbance, but each time he made to find it, it just seemed to slip right though his fingers.

Reaching out carefully, Harry very gingerly touched the edge of what looked to be a tendril of foreign energy. A woven net of red abruptly stood out vividly against the solid dark gold and greenish silver of his own core.

_How the devil could I have missed that!_

Examining the piece in his grasp, he felt faint emanations from it. Taking a firmer grip, he started to examine the feelings he could identify.

_There is a definite undertone of worry and desperation. Some . . . determination? Hmm, affection and protectiveness. Lots of protectiveness. Is that . . . ? It feels like what I get when I just finished a big project and I know it's 'A' worthy. Triumph and satisfaction. Someone put a lot of time and energy into this. _He 'tasted' the flavour of the net again. _Two someones. My parents perhaps? It does seem to be a protective barrier, or a shield of some sort. What happened though, it's breaking down._

Indeed, from where he was it looked like huge chunks of it were degraded. Other parts had holes in it and seemed to be unraveling. For some reason it made him sad to see what must have been a masterpiece in such a sorry state. Drifting about, he came to a tear that had a very familiar shape, one he saw in the mirror every day. And within that tear was a small well of power, the colour of which showed up ever so often in his nightmares. Nightmares that had plagued for as long as he could remember. A woman screaming, someone laughing, and a flash of green light.

_Something tells me that my parents didn't die in a car crash. A shield like this doesn't strike me as a split second thing. I'm not terribly surprised that Petunia and Vernon would lie about that, they lie about everything else. _

_The two were worried and desperate when they made this shield. The fact that they are dead and I am not validated that fear. Why wouldn't they do the same for themselves though? Perhaps they had enough time to do me first but were interrupted before they could complete their own? I have to speculate on that later. The more immediate issue is here before me. _

Venturing closer, but not enough to touch, he observed the green, lightening shaped well. The edges of the tear close to it were much darker than anywhere else. Where it touched his own power, the vibrant gold turned a dark orange and the silver obtained a greener tinge. As his power swirled away, the orange and green became lighter and harder to notice.

_Now that I think about it, the farther I get from the inner core, the darker the colours get. It's mixing with my power._

Unsure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, he followed a swirl of his own power as it mixed with the green energy and headed back toward his core.

Immediately following contact with the foreign matter, his own carried a faint feeling of hate, ill will, and, oddly enough, determination. As the eddy moved farther though, the feelings dissipated and the sense of 'me' that he identified from his core asserted itself.

_Huh. So, the shield must have blocked most of the. . . whatever that green light was, and my core must have been strong enough to stop the rest. The left over energy gathered here and has been mixing with my own power ever since. Seven almost eight years. _

Harry examined the gap between where the shield ended and where the green energy began. There was a buffer of orange and silver green between the two.

_Most of it's gone now. Judging from the size of that gap, there is, at most, four years worth of the green stuff left before it's all assimilated with my power. At this speed anyway._

Almost as soon as gold and silver came into contact with green, the darkened eddies would whirl away. Some would go back immediately to his core, others would gather around the edges and must have mixed in more slowly.

_It's only really assimilating a little at a time. With the amount of hate and ill will in that thing, that's probably a good thing. Too fast and I would probably have died not long after my parents. I think I'll just leave it alone. The way it's going now, it will take care of itself. The shield however. . ._

Harry spent a while exploring the shield. Then he came to an area that was more degenerated than the rest. It appeared to be connected to something that was not him.

_I thought that it might just be the amount of time that passed since it was put up, but something is actually _draining_ energy from the lattice. My parents put this shield in place to help _me._ Anything that lessens my protection is obviously a threat. I need to find where it stops being my parent's work and starts being some one or some thing else._

As he followed the line of red, that was rapidly thinning out, he came across a fault that was connected to a different red line. One with a new 'taste' from his parents' own. There was a definite feeling of power draining from his side of the connection to this one, slowly but surely. Going farther, he came to the unpleasant realization that his core was straining to help him, if he strayed farther he might slip into unconsciousness. Just as he reached the conclusion that stopping would be prudent, he came across a new lattice. A dome.

_Is this another person? _

As the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it. If it were someone else then he would be able to feel their power.

_It must be an object or a building. _An unpleasant thought crossed his mind. _The Dursley's._

_It makes a frightening amount of sense. Someone attacked my parents. They knew that the attack was coming and had time to prepare my own protection and were perhaps disrupted before they could secure their own protection. They die and. . . _, this part was a bit fuzzy to him, maybe the attacker thought he had died when he was hit with the green light and left. _So after that, someone finds me and places me with Petunia and Vernon. They see that the shield protected me and decide that it would be best to extend it to protect the Dursley's too. Maybe they figured that whoever it was might go after the last of the family. But whoever it was didn't attack. Perhaps they got caught or something. Only the mystery person doesn't remove the link to the new lattice, and it's been draining power from my own shields ever since. _

_That's rather counterproductive though. If the attacker is gone then these shield are the only thing that I have from my parents. I want to keep them. The Dursley's won't need the protection either. If the attacker is still out there then when my personal shield collapses from the stress of supporting the one around the house, that one won't be getting any new energy and will eventually collapse on it's own. Then none of us will be protected._

Going back to the fault, he was relieved when the strain on his core eased as he returned to an acceptable distance. He slowly gathered some of his power. It traveled up the gather around his awareness.

_The lattice around the house has been drawing power from my own lattice to support itself for seven and some oddth years . It should be able to last a while before it falls. If we do get attacked, I'd rather my shield be in one piece around me than have it drained to uselessness and a collapsing shield around the house. _

With that thought, he severed the link between the two lattices.

_The Dursley's will just have to fend for themselves._

_--_

Once again on the outer edge of his core, Harry was examining the shield. It did not escape his notice that the area around the tear was the most robust of the lattice. It seemed that the buffer zone of his own energy was feeding the shield.

As he examined each tear and degenerated area he became aware of a ghost echo. Pushing a small amount of energy into the empty zone he was pleasantly surprised to feel a fragile net. There was no energy in it, but there was an imprint of what use to be there. Acting on impulse, he touched one of the withered ends of red with a tendril of his power. The red mixed with his gold and the end extended a fraction along the echo.

It would take time, but with the drain gone and if he consciously fed power into the lattice then it could be brought back to it's former glory. It would not be exactly the way it was with the addition of his energy, but it would be a proper shield again.

Harry slowly rose out of the meditative state and checked his watch. He had been under for almost seven hours and only had time for a quick stretch before he left.

It seemed that he would always find something new to the list of things that he had to do. A few hours a day would bring the shield along nicely and he would have time to practice some of the more tangible uses of his power.

_Perhaps I should find a way to unconsciously feed the lattice power in addition to the automatic feed it seems to have set up around the scar._

_It would appear that next year will have to be carefully scheduled._

_I'm almost sorry that I tested out of the fifth grade. I'll skip a grade next term and begin my final year and then there will be the common entrance exams and the entrance exams for my ticket out of this prison a year early. _

_Almost sorry, _he smirked as he stretched, _but not quite. I'll just have to budget my time._

AN: In this chapter we see some of Harry's more ruthless impulses. I've also introduced the blood wards. As far as this story is concerned, when Dumbledoor set up the wards, he thought they would replenish Harry's protection by the family bond that Petunia was supposed to feel. I set it up so that Lily and James did a blood ritual protection ward, I don't believe in that 'mother's loving sacrifice' bull that he sprouts in canon. But the basic premise that a family bond with his mother's blood sister would keep the protection strong holds true. So there should have been a feed back. The house shield would get some energy from harry's shield and the family bond of caring would generate more energy and put it back in Harry's shield so that everyone is protected. However, since there is no familial feelings between the two, there is no feed back, energy goes to the house shield and nothing is coming back to even out the flow, so the house is just an energy sink.

Also of note. Harry doesn't connect his power to magic yet. He just knows that he has a power and that there are others like him. He'll get there eventually though.


	4. 212 minus 32 all divided by 1point 8

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you to all my readers. Doubly so for reviewers. I do like you so.

And yes Harry will be strengthening the shield by mixing his power with it little by little over the next few years. It took a long time to degrade it to where it is now, so the revitalization won't be instantaneous. The nature of the shield will also change a bit to reflect the type of energy going into it.

Chapter 4: (212-32)/1.8

Harry looked at the leaf as it drifted on a tendril of power in front of his eyes.

In the three weeks since he had discovered the latticework surrounding his core, he had made good progress with accessing his powers and directing it outward. The first time he had tried this exercise, the rush of power that escaped his grasp had left him panting and covered in sweat. The leaf had not moved so much as a millimeter.

_Slow and steady. _

A second tendril wrapped around a small pebble. When the pebble was half way up, the leaf wobbled dangerously for a moment. Harry exhaled slowly as he steadied the leaf while holding the power around the pebble constant. He brought the two abreast while reaching for a second leaf.

His early attempts were like a two-year-old with a paintbrush and an open can of paint: good for broad strokes and a huge mess, but no fine control. And control, that was the difference between a masterpiece and a child's finger-painting.

_It actually takes more effort to restrain my power than it does to just let it run wild. At least this way it will work how I want it to and when._

A second pebble joined the three floating objects. When he was sure he had them all under control, Harry started to move them in a pattern, a simple circle at first, then adding loops and turns. He separated the leaves and stones and put them through opposing patterns.

Now came the most difficult part.

_It's all about power, intent and focus._

He lifted his hands and very carefully directed the tendrils to attach to his fingers, a leaf and pebble per hand. For the next exercise, it would be easier to keep his focus if he didn't have to worry as much about dropping them. Creating a new tendril of energy, he touched one of the leaves. It promptly turned blue.

Harry repeated the previous patterns of movement, changing colours as he went.

_Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. My own personal rainbow._

A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brows by the time he stopped. Putting down the brightly coloured practice tools, he settled back into his meditative state. Basking in his core, he only drifted, enjoying the slow pulse of his power.

Harry had taken to waking earlier in the mornings. He spent the extra half hour feeding power slowly into his shield. Some of the smaller degenerated areas had started showing visible improvement and he was feeling very good about himself.

After about fifteen minutes, he came back out of meditation. There was something new that he wanted to try today. Taking a bottle of water out of his bag he twisted of the cap and created a now familiar tendril.

Carefully putting the strand of power into the opening, he tried to will the water out. Three seconds, five, ten.

_This isn't working. Maybe more power . . . ?_

_Nothing._

Eyes narrowed, he considered the problem.

_What happened? Theoretically, my intent should have translated into the water doing what I wanted. _The tendril picked up one of the pebbles. _I touch the object with my power and as long as the power, intent, and focus are there, then it does what I want it to. _He picked up a leaf. _Same thing. _He tried again with the water. _Nothing._

_What is different? The water should follow the same rules as . . . the water . . . _Harry felt like smacking himself. _The water is _water_. I might as well stick a knife in there and try to drink. _

He flattened the tendril out and widened it before fashioning it into a hollow tube. This time he got the water to rise inside his improvised straw. Closing the end, he moved his length of water.

The next ten minutes were spent manipulating his power into various shapes around the water. As long as the water was completely surrounded, it conformed to the shape. He amused himself for a minute by stretching the water paper thing and into a rectangular shape. If anyone had been able to see him, they would have noticed what appeared to be clear glass floating lazily in front of his face.

_How do I . . . ? Yes, that works._

He gathered power around his hands and used it to keep the delicate sheet of ice cool as it lay flat on his palms. He released the energy encasing it.

_The power, intent, and focus rule still hold true. It is only how I shape the power that differs. But that is just for moving it in liquid form. _He created a solid tendril and touched the ice. It lifted just as easily as the leaves did. Away from the cooling energy in his palms, the ice slowly melted in the summer air.

Half the bottle of water was still available. He used the same tendril to touch the water. Ice radiated out from where the water met his power. Changing his intent briefly he watched as the ice melted just as quickly. Swirling the water around, he smirked as he observed the steam that escaped the lip.

_At least now I know I'll never have to worry about a hot or cold drink ever again._

_--_

The rest of vacation passed quickly. Harry had learned, through trial and error, that if he kept a thin skin of energy around his body, he could be as cool or as warm as he wanted. It had taken days to learn how to keep it up constantly, even while practicing. The pull on his power from this activity was negligible and after a week he did not feel it at all. It did not escape his notice that his core had gotten bigger.

_It is either that A) the more I use it, it gets stronger, B) it is still growing as I grow, or C) both of the above. Only time will tell. For right now, I have something more important to take care of._

It was only one week before he began his last year at primary school. Over the summer he had found that the cupboard had become rather cramped. If things went how he thought it would, then his days in that cage were numbered.

Today he had cut his practice short and returned to the house while Petunia was watching her soaps. She wrinkled her nose as she saw him enter the house.

"May I speak with you Aunt Petunia?" no need to be antagonistic.

"What do you want, boy?" Her shrill voice grated his nerves, but he kept his tone and face neutral.

"I would like to move into Dudley's second bedroom." Unlike Vernon, it was better to be blunt with her.

"You want what? Why would I deprive my darling Duddykins just to make space for you? Isn't it enough that you steal the food out of his mouth, you want to steal space from him too?"

Her face was red with outrage and she was breathing heavily. It was time to put an end to this nonsense. Good thing he had planned for this eventuality. Reaching into his ever-present bag, he pulled out several photos and dropped them on the coffee table. He had bought a disposable camera in the past few weeks. On it were various pictures of the woods and several special ones.

"What is. . ." the colour leeched out of her face as she came to one that showed a childish scrawl detailing_ 'this is my room.'_

"You are going to give me what I want because I have copies of these photos with a letter to Vernon's boss, detailing how he has treated his poor orphaned nephew for the last eight years. Because I have proof of your neglect to show the principal of the school, who, I might add, is not very impressed with your behaviour regarding me. I am his star pupil after all. Rip them up if you want, I have more. The way I see it, we can do this quietly, and keep this conversation just between us. Or we can do this the hard way. Both of us know Vernon may do something, _unfortunate,_ if the details of this little talk get out."

Malicious green eyes bore into her soul.

"I don't care how you convince him, but I will be moving out of that cupboard. One way, or the other. I'm a growing boy after all, I'll need my space." Harry watched the trembling hands cover her mouth. He spun on his heel and walked to the door.

"I'm glad we could have this talk. Enjoy the rest of the evening, _Aunt_ Petunia."

--

He moved into his new room three days later.

AN: Now wasn't that fun? The next chapter will deal with the next two years and then Minerva and Dumbledore will be making their appearance.


	5. x squared minus 5x plus 6

1I do not own Harry Potter.

As always, thank you to those who read this story and much love all around for those who review.

In this chapter, we see more than Harry's point of view. Minerva meets Harry.

Chapter 5: x2-5x+6

Harry considered the letter in his hands and the owl preening itself on the ledge of his window.Honestly, who used parchment in this day and age.

_Apparently, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Makes sense to have a magic school I suppose. An acceptance letter and a list of supplies. I don't remember applying to this school, I guess my parents must have enrolled me. A little thin for an acceptance letter though. Barely three sentences. Who makes a life changing decision based on this?_

The last two years had been a true test of his skills in time management. Juggling school work, his private study, extra curricular activities, and magic had really been something.

He had put a name to his power a year and a half ago when Dudley had mentioned to his parents at dinner that Piers Polkiss' parents were going to get a magician to perform for his birthday. Petunia and Vernon went nuts. The phrase "there's no such thing as magic" had gotten thrown around quite a bit, along with a few "freaks" and "unnaturalness" for flavouring. Harry had extrapolated from there.

He had ruefully admitted to himself that it should probably have occurred to him sooner given previous reactions to the word, but really, what logic minded person automatically thinks _magic_ when something strange happens?

Harry, last year, graduated first in his class and aced the common entrance exams. The principal was the one who drove him to London to take the entrance exams for the Xavier Academy. Petunia was actually shocked when the acceptance packet had arrived. It had been quite thick, detailing the school's academic and sporting accomplishments, containing pictures of the campus, and a booklet of expectations, and rules. Some minor arm twisting had persuaded her to sign all the requisite forms. The fact that she would not have to see him at all for ten and a half months, nor pay for this may have made things easier than they could have been.

As a ten-year-old scholarship student, there had been some ribbing, but that had stopped after the first week: discipline was tightly maintained by the faculty. He had managed to make friends with the three other boys sharing his dorm and had even joined the swim team. If the water sometimes behaved oddly around him, no one commented.

Two years of magical study had brought farther refinement in his skills and the introduction of new ones. He was now able to lift up to thirty pounds easily, more if he poured a significant portion of his power into it. He could also change the shapes of some things. He had changed the rather old fashioned circular lenses of his glasses into a much more stylish and flattering rectangular ones. He had also amused himself by creating a chess set out of pebbles last summer. While he had found that turning a round stone into a horse shaped one was easy, he could not change the shape of any solid cold metals. Melting the metals and then shaping it was possible though.

Another thing he had noticed, was that while he could create a light and heat things with his power, he could not create a spark. He wouldn't be able to start a fire but he could keep himself warm. Harry had also discovered that by releasing his magic in the air around him, he could create drafts and move the air somewhat. By encapsulating a - relatively - large area (about the size of his room), adding and removing moisture and heating and cooling the air, he could create miniature weather systems. This was time consuming and the more violent the system the more energy it ate.

The most evident of his new abilities was the awareness of the ambient magic that was omnipresent in the surroundings. Some areas had more than others, but it was everywhere. He could feel it in people as well, not a lot but some. Petunia and Dudley seemed to have more than Vernon, not a great deal, but more. No matter how hard he tried he could not see anything, but he could feel the pressure against the magic that carried the imprint of 'him.' Harry had taken to modifying the shield he used to regulate the temperature against his skin to do the same with his magic. By thinning or thickening the shield he could extend his awareness farther or limit it to his body.

The reason for this was found in the progress he made in manipulating water. It seemed the more he worked with it, the easier manipulating and sensing it became. With his power open to interacting with the free floating magic, he had started to sense any nearby water source. While this was not so bad when it was just sensing the general moisture in the air and maybe any persons in the room, by last Christmas it had gotten to the point where he could almost see in his mind's eye, the layout of every pipe in the building. The fact that the human body is more than 70 percent water did not help. He had spent the entire holiday season and a good chunk of the next two months meditating and changing his temperature shield to regulate magical input and output as well.

His first year at the Academy had ended on a high note as he had attained the top spot ranking needed to keep his scholarship. He was pleased that the mid July end of term meant that he skipped Dudley's yearly gift counting and whatever birthday celebration that he would not be invited to. The weekly twenty five-pound stipend he recieved with his scholarship had mostly been saved, so he also had quite a bit of pocket money this summer.

He had only been back a week though, and Dudley was already getting on his nerves. Apparently he would be starting Smeltings in September and had gotten that ridiculous stick. He had taken to poking Harry with it whenever they were in the same room.

Yesterday, Harry had finally gotten fed up with Dudley's actions. Due to his sensitivity, he had a rather good grasp of the mammalian anatomy, stimulating Dudley's bladder had been nothing. Right now, he could feel the fat blob hurry out of his room to get to the washing machine. Petunia was in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Dudley would have to pass her with his pee stained sheets and pajamas to reach the machines in the basement. He was stopped by Petunia. Harry could not hear the words, but Dudley was shifting from foot to foot, evidently unhappy with the delay. Vernon's bulk moved from the master bedroom to the stairs. Dudley's heart rate, already high, started to race. He started gesturing and was scurrying past Petunia when Vernon seemed to stop him. More gestures, then Vernon snatched the stained sheets from his hands.

Harry chuckled as Dudley's shoulders slumped in, presumably, shame.

A sharp series of clacks brought his attention back to the owl and the letter in his hand. Taking a sheet of paper out of his new messenger bag, he penned a reply and addressed it to the Deputy Headmistress. Handing the folded paper to the owl he sat back and decided discretion was the better part of valour.

He'd wait until called before he went down.

HPHP

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, looked at the reply she had gotten back from one of the most anticipated students in the history of Hogwarts and pressed her lips together.

_Dear Deputy Headmistress,_

_If you truly wish to tempt students to attend your school, provided this is not a farce, then something more than a _'you are accepted' _and_ 'owl your reply' _is needed._

_Harry James Potter_

Striding to the Headmaster's office, she snapped out the password and stomped up the circular staircase.

"Good morning Minerva, would you perchance like some tea?" Albus Dumbledore placed a cup and saucer on the desk.

"No Albus, I would not like some tea. Perhaps you can explain this to me," she dropped the letter in front of him. "You assured me that Harry would know about his heritage. This does not sound like someone that knows about the wizarding world to me."

Albus read the letter, twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly, before coming back full force.

"I would have thought that his Aunt would have explained about his magic and Hogwarts to him. Her house was the only safe place where he could enjoy a normal childhood after all. Someone will just have to visit him and explain if this is not the case." _That and he wouldn't have to deal with the pressure of being the Boy Who Lived. Who knows how arrogant he could have become. Arrogance has ruined a great many a good wizard._

Minerva frowned slightly. She had some paper work she had been going to complete today, and a visit with a muggle-born student tomorrow, but . . .

"I can clear my schedule today. A muggleborn orientation pack will be needed," she murmured more to herself than to him. "I'll go deal with this travesty."

He reached into one of his drawers and took out a small gold key. "You might need this for young Harry's vault to buy his supplies."

She took the key and, with one last narrow eyed scowl aimed at the Headmaster, Minerva walked out the door.

_I may have to pull an all nighter to finish the paperwork, but for Lily and James' son. I can stand a little sleep deprivation._

HPHP

Minerva apparated close to where she remembered the Dursley's house was. She sniffed at the row of cookie cutter houses. Just as unimaginative as she remembered. Walking to Number 4, she pressed the doorbell. Petunia Dursley, looking just as unpleasant as ever, opened the door.

"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, from Hogwarts, I would like to speak to Mr. Potter, please."

"The boy isn't here." The door slammed shut.

"Why, I never," Minerva rang the doorbell again. Petunia scowled at her.

"Look, the Potter boy is not here and probably won't be back for hours. I don't know where he is and I don't care either. He's in the general area though. If you want to talk to him, you'll just have to search or come back tomorrow before eight thirty in the morning." The door slammed shut again with a rather definitive click signaling that it was locked.

_How rude. I told Albus. I told him they were the worst sort of muggles, but would he listen? Oh no, because he is Albus ruddy Dumbledore. _She put a notice-me-not spell on herself, before doing a point me.

_I hope he appreciates this._

HPHP

Two hours later, alternately cursing, Harry, Albus, and Petunia, Minerva glared at the trees surrounding her.

_This is what I get for being a concerned Professor. If I knew that finding the child was going to turn into an epic quest, I would have asked Albus to lend me his phoenix. That over grown turkey has to be good for something. _

She was tired, sweaty(even through the cooling charm), and very irritated. She would have given up a while ago, but the thought of Albus _twinkling_ at her(and laughing on the inside) spurred her on.

"Do you need help?"

The polite query, spoken in a light tenor brought her attention to the young man leaning against one of the trees. Messy black hair fell around a face softened with baby fat. Glimpses of the face he would eventually have were evident in the high cheekbones and defined jaw line. Green eyes examined her in turn before an eyebrow rose.

"You seem to have gotten a bit turned around."

Minerva would have liked to argue the point, but her robes -high necked, long sleeves, ankle length- were truly unsuited for the terrain.

"Well then Mr. Potter, perhaps if you were in a civilized setting, I would not have gotten 'turned around.'"

Eyes narrowed, Harry straightened against the tree.

"You seem to know me, but I don't know you."

" Professor Minerva McGonagall, I teach transfiguration at Hogwarts. As for how I know you, you bare a striking resemblance to your father, Mr. Potter, with your mother's eyes and cheekbones."

His wariness lessened slightly, but something she couldn't quite place passed though his eyes. "Ah, yes, Hogwarts. The supposed school of witchcraft and wizardry. Do you have any proof this is a real place? I've certainly never heard about it," his voice gained a sardonic lilt, "Your little acceptance letter wasn't terribly informative, Deputy Headmistress."

Minerva cleared her throat. "We are very sorry about that. Usually a member of staff would deliver the letter of muggleborns in person the year they turn eleven and explain about the wizarding world and magic," she saw surprise on his face which she interpreted -incorrectly- to mean that he was unaware of magic. It was really the idea that there were enough people with abilities that they could form a wizarding _world_ that had gotten to him.

Harry had an inkling, but this question needed to be asked. "Why was I not given this consideration?"

"You, Mr. Potter, are what some would call a half blood. That means that your father was a pureblooded wizard and your mother was a muggleborn. Technically, you are really a first generation pureblood, born to a witch and wizard, but most purebloods are opposed to this view because muggleborns come from parents without magic. We had thought that your Aunt would explain to you about your magic and what to expect." Minerva practically saw his estimation of her intelligence drop.

"You actually thought _Petunia_ would tell me anything useful about _magic_?" He filed the 'we' comment away for later consideration. "Your letter was the first time I ever heard about Hogwarts. The only mention my _Aunt_ ever made of magic, was to tell me that it didn't exist."

Minerva's lips thinned with disapproval. _That woman._

"Well, first of all, Hogwarts is the most prestigious school of magic in Europe. It is a seven year boarding school that teaches children such as yourself how to control their magic. One of the many things you will be learning, is how to do this," she drew her wand under Harry's curious regard and transfigured a twig into a chair. His eyes widened, as she sat down. A second flick had a chair close to him. He took in the detail on the former twig nodding slightly as he sat down.

"When do you teach that?"

Minerva smiled at him. "Not for a few years Mr. Potter. First years generally start by changing a matchstick into a needle." She noticed the way he was eyeing her wand and raised it to give him a clearer view. "This is my wand. Every witch and wizard is taught to use one to do magic. You will get one too when we go to Diagon Alley to buy your school things." He looked at her oddly for a moment.

"Is attendance to Hogwarts mandatory, Professor?"

"Oh no, there are two other very good schools of magic in Europe. You would have to speak French or German to attend those though. Some parents also choose to home school their children, usually those families are ones that focus on a particular branch of magic, like potions. Every once in a while, a muggleborn's parents will refuse to allow their child's attendance."

"Do you teach, things that a, muggle? is it, is expected to know. Higher math, the sciences, history, technology and such?"

Minerva waved away his concern. "We have potions, which is comparable to chemistry I believe it is, and Care of Magical Creatures for biology. Arithmancy deals with the magical properties of numbers and there is of course the History of Magic. Muggle technology does not work in Hogwarts or in any area with a high concentration of magic."

Then he said something that wiped the smile from her face.

"I already attend one of the most prestigious schools in the UK, and while it can't teach me how to change a matchstick into a needle, or a twig into a chair, graduation guarantees me my choice of the best tertiary education money can buy. And, subsequently, a very good job. Something tells me your school of _magic_ can't boast the same."

Minerva was flustered for a moment. It never occurred to her that he might not want to go. Most children jumped at the chance to do magic. It was usually muggle parents that had reservations about sending their children to a magical school, and they more often than not, were pleased that the odd happenings that occurred when their children displayed accidental magic would stop as the child was taught to control their magic. The few who rejected the school outright generally had religious leanings. Harry gave no signs of being one of those.

After being raised by Petunia Dursley, who did not seem to care too much for him, she would have thought he would be happy to be given a chance to get away from her ten months out of the year.

Not to mention the fact that he was the Boy Who Lived. If he did not attend Hogwarts there would be an uproar.

"While leaving what you find comfortable in the muggle world might be a shock, I'm sure your parents would have loved for you to go to their old Alma Mater." She was instantly aware that invoking his parents memories was the wrong track. The polite and congenial young man she had been speaking to vanished behind an icy mask.

"You will leave my parents out of this. You are here to convince me to leave a school I quite enjoy in order to attend one I never heard of before this morning, and enter a society I never knew existed," light glinted off his glasses as he used a finger to adjust them. He aimed a frosty smile in her direction after checking his watch.

"It is now one forty five. I don't generally return to the Dursley's before seven. You have a little more than five hours. Sell your school to me, Deputy Headmistress."

AN: So this is part one of the Get Harry to Hogwarts movement. Don't worry he'll get there, but the method to this happening will leave a big black mark on Harry's regard for the Headmaster, and piss him off to no end. You'll just have to wait and see.


	6. Xminus2 by Xminus3

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you my faithful readers and fabulous reviewers. The response to the last chapter was appreciated.

Chapter 6: (X-2)(X-3)

Two hours and a sore throat later, Minerva was seriously wondering if Harry's presence in Hogwarts was worth the hassle. Except for when he was asking questions, she had been speaking nonstop the entire time. They had covered the school grounds and architecture (who in their right minds build staircases that move at random?), the Forbidden Forest (dangerous you say?), Quidditch (broomsticks?), Houses (sounds a bit like stereotyping), subjects(Muggle Studies?), the teachers(how long have they been teaching?), and their qualifications (what criteria are they held to?). Which led to an explanation of the curse on the Defense position. Harry had not been impressed to hear that the new DADA teacher used to be the Muggle Studies teacher.

"You paint a very vivid picture of your school, Deputy Headmistress, it sounds very interesting," she almost let a relieved sigh escape, "But there is still the matter of your society and the very little that I know of it. Let's start with your government." A barely visible tic developed in her temple.

"Enough, Mr. Potter, I need to catch my breath," conjuring a glass of water, she leveled a stern look in his direction as she drank. His face, which had settled into polite neutrality as she spoke, developed a small smile.

"That's quite alright Professor. I suppose I was pushing you a bit. Do you want to stretch your legs a little? I'm sure a brief break will do us both good."

Minerva stood up slowly, stretching out her back. A thought hit her as she glanced at the youth. Making her way over to were he was still sitting, she handed him the orientation packet. It held a small booklet, which covered the basics of the wizarding world, directions to Diagon Alley, his train ticket, and instructions on how to get on the platform. Truthfully, this should have been the first thing, she gave him, but she had been off balance ever since the first hour after Petunia had slammed the door in her face. Then when she had found him, he was so far away from what she had expected. . .

Venturing off in a random direction, she pondered Harry. Regardless of whether or not Petunia had cared for the lad, he was an intelligent and inquisitive young man. _Thorough too. If the MoM ever needs an interrogator, I know just who they can call. _The twittering of the birds were the only sounds she heard apart from her own footsteps. _He's so intense, and his eyes are so old. Like the innocence has been stripped from him. Not all of it, I saw glimpses of an eleven-year-old in there, but, mostly, he's an old cynic in a child's body. What could those people have done to give a child eyes like that? Lily, James, if you had lived, would he have been the mischief-maker that his father was at this age? He looks so much like him. Perhaps the cheerful, outgoing personality of his mother to counterbalance that similarity, or a mix of the two. _Her slow circuit had brought her back to Harry. He had folded his legs up on the chair and was going through the booklet with singular focus. That achingly familiar profile attached to a boy who behaved nothing like the one he so resembled. _If he does come to Hogwarts, I'll do the best I can for him. _

"Professor?" the soft query interrupted her line of thought and surprised her. With the way he was looking at the booklet, she had not thought he had heard her return. "Even if my parents made plans for me to attend your school, no one has told me how I am supposed to pay for the privilege. Rest assured, my _Aunt_ will contribute nothing to this endeavor."

Minerva looked at him for a moment. The thought that occurred to her was outlandish, but she wouldn't put it past Petunia. "What do you know about the circumstances surrounding your parents deaths?"

She involuntarily tensed as those striking green eyes turned their focus on her with all the force of a sledgehammer. She saw him weighing her up and relaxed when he nodded slowly. "I was told that they died in a car accident. Personally, I've always thought that there was more to the story."

Minerva didn't know who she was angrier at, Petunia or Albus. He knew nothing, not even that his parents were murdered. The child knew nothing of what would be expected of him, either as the last of the Potter line or as the Boy who Lived. She sat down at her seat and set about explaining of Voldemort and the events that led up to the Potters' demise. She finished by telling him of what was known about the Halloween of 1991 and the consequences for him. She also told him of the Headmaster's (and her's) decision to leave him with his aunt. As she spoke, his face closed off again and she was left looking at the cold mask she had encountered previously. Nothing of his thoughts showed through. Eventually, coming to the conclusion that he wasn't going to say anything, she addressed the query that had made her suspicious.

"The Potters might not have been the wealthiest of families, but they were certainly well off," reaching into her handbag, she retrieved the small gold key."This," she said, handing the key to him, "was given to the Headmaster for safekeeping before that night. It is the key to your trust account at Gringotts, the wizarding bank, make sure you do not lose it." He clasp the key in his hand and gave her that small smile.

"Thank you, Professor Minerva McGonagall." She knew he was not talking about the key.

"You're welcome."

She did a quick tempus spell. Four fifty three.

"So, will we be picking up your school supplies, Mr. Potter?"

ECHP

Minerva settled on the couch in her rooms at Hogwarts, kicked off her shoes, and sighed in pleasure. The day had ended well.

She had side-along apparated Harry to the Leaky Cauldron and they had passed unmolested through to Diagon Alley. The expression on his face when he first saw the Alley was gratifying. It hadn't lasted for long, but it definitely showed a glimpse of the child that still existed.

They had visited his vault where a sum had vanished into his bag after she explained the denominations. He then made a bee line to Flourish and Blotts where he spent the rest of his time picking up 'research material.' The clerk had commented on the lack of schoolbooks, but an icy glare had persuaded the poor man to keep quiet and tally up the price. Harry said, that since he still had a week to make a decision, he would find out as much as he could before committing himself to a course of action. An Owl Post Office she pointed out would take care of sending his letter to her.

Minerva indulged in a bit of self pity. Even if he came to Hogwarts, he would never be one of her lions, not with that sort of attitude.

She drifted off slowly. Albus was probably in his office waiting for her to come by with a report. She scoffed softly. _Let him wait, tomorrow is just as good as today._

ECHP

While she had been half expecting it, that didn't make the letter she was going to write any easier.

Harry's reply had reached her just an hour ago. He didn't even take the full seven days, since his birthday was tomorrow. She smoothed her perfectly styled hair in disappointment. Placing quill to parchment, she wrote out her reply.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_While I had hoped that we would be seeing each other in the coming school year, I respect your decision to not attend. . ._

(AN: I should end it here to screw with your heads, but I promised to finish the pre hogwarts era this chapter)

ECHP

Albus Dumbledore looked at the letter his deputy had wordlessly dropped on his desk, appalled.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_After much consideration, and with the help of several books that could not decide how many cats I saved from trees and what type of woman I would like to marry, I have reached the decision that the wizarding world would not have too much to offer me at this time. I made several subsequent trips to Diagon Alley after our outing to get more information and, I think perhaps, after I have completed my education here I might get a magical tutor. _

_I know that this is not what you were hoping for when you came to look for me, but I have invested too many years into Xavier Academy to just up and go somewhere that, while offering me something much different and potentially more exciting, will only limit my choices in the future and trap me into an insular community that has not advanced much pass the middle ages. A bigoted community at that. _

_I'd rather stay where I've earned my place with hard work and can go far, than involve myself with a group of people who, if I've read the lay of the land correctly, will make my life difficult when they realize I am not some mythical saviour who will make all their troubles go away. I would prefer to be somewhere that people are not going to celebrate my great victory on the night that my parents died._

_I do hope that we will meet at some point in the future, but I do not see that happening for a few years yet._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter _

"For better or worst," she said quietly walking to the door, "this is what our decision to leave him on that doorstep has wrought. I already sent a reply off to him, so don't worry yourself."

_This wasn't supposed to happen. Harry was supposed to have a regular childhood with his relatives, away from the adulation of the wizarding public. Then he was to have been eager to return to his place here. He is the only one that defeat Voldemort after all. He must be trained for the coming difficulty. I know Tom isn't dead, he's just biding his time until he can regain his body._

Hurrying to the floo, he called for the one person that could find out the information he wanted in a timely manner.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt."

_I'm sorry my boy, but your happiness has to come in second to the safety of everyone who would be in danger if I let you go untrained._

ECHP

It only took Kingsley two days to find out the location of Xavier Academy and to get an appointment for him.

As Albus sat in front of the muggle headmaster of Xavier Academy, he felt a small pang of guilt for what he was about to do. He squelched the feeling.

_It's for the greater good._

"Headmaster Kelley, as I told your assistant, this is about one of your students, a Mr. Harry James Potter. This goes back about a decade ago when his parents were killed by cult members. There has been recent evidence that suggests that the leader, who was never caught, has come out of hiding and is going to target young Mr. Potter. . ."

ECHP

Harry frowned as two huge source of magical energy appeared to his senses. Neither them felt like Professor McGonagall, but one was familiar non the less. Looking up from his book, he scowled at the intruders in his clearing. One human, one. . .phoenix?

He recognized the form from one of his acquisitions, which detailed the various magical creatures which populated the world. The phoenix was suppose to be rare and the only one known was the familiar of Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, defeater of Gellert Grindelwald so called Dark Lord.

Harry got only a glimpse of a dark modern looking suit before it changed to blue robes covered in moving stars and crescent moons. The man was carrying what appeared to be a packet of some sort.

"To what do I owe this visit Headmaster Dumbledore?" he asked as he strengthened his shield.

The Alley had made him happy that he went through the trouble of putting up a shield to block magical intrusions on his person. The place was heavily entrenched in power and unlike out here or at school there was structure to most of it. He had had to layer it as he and McGonagall walked through the place. The plaque over the door at Gringotts had to have been some sort of spell as well, he had felt something trying to ease through the (by then) heavy shield when he had read it.

Now, in the presence of one of the greatest wizards in the world, he was even happier for that trip. He felt the magical aura surrounding Dumbledore extend to him and seem to slid off his own. It felt like something the man did automatically, there was no particular intent behind it.

"You recognize me? I was not expecting that Mr. Potter, I haven't seen you since that regrettable night, ten years ago." Harry forced himself to focus on the bridge of Dumbledore's nose.

"Your picture was in _Notable Wizards of Our Time_."

"I see."

The disturbing twinkle in his eyes plus the feel of his magic on the shield was making Harry uneasy. A soft thrill caused him to stifle a grateful exhale and look at the phoenix, which was perched on a branch.

"Ah, this is Fawkes, he seems to want to say hello," the statement was punctuated by another vocalization.

"I doubt a busy person such as yourself would come here to introduce me to your phoenix. I am not a student at your school Headmaster nor am I going to be. What is your purpose here?" Aggravation at the intrusion and the Headmaster's aura attempting to influence him to do something or other made his voice sharper than he intended. The man's face fell slightly.

"Harry, my boy,"

"Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter, it's important that young people such as yourself be trained in the proper use of your magic."

"Professor McGonagall said that attendance to your school was not mandatory."

"That might be true, but you are a very powerful young man, and if someone like you were to lose control then it could very well prove fatal for some whatever unfortunate soul that were in the area."

"What makes you think that I will lose control," Harry glared at him from under narrowed lids.

"Everyone gets angry from time to time Har, Mr. Potter, it is impossible that you will be in control of yourself for the rest of your natural life, not untrained as you are. And adolescence is an especially volatile time for any young man. It is the reason that we choose this time to start training all of you how to control your powers."

Harry's power roiled with his anger beneath the shield.

"You seem to be very concerned about me Headmaster, why is that?"

"I am concerned with the well being of all my students."

"Of which I am not one."

ECHP

Albus sighed. It was not the first time a student had been wary in his presence, usually they would have calmed down by now though. He was aware of the sub conscious effect that his aura usually had on those around him, usually they were calmed or cowed, it was part of the reason that he chose his wardrobe, it helped to lower the awareness of those affected. Even Tom had calmed after a few minutes. Instead of calming though, Harry was becoming more hostile as they talked.

Minerva would not have liked the boy so much if he had been this hostile to her. He made a conscious effort to reign in his aura and watched as some of the tension disappeared from Harry's shoulders. How was he suppose to guide and train the boy when the child could hardly stand to be in his presence.

_If it's not one thing then it's another._

For the first time, he wondered if perhaps he should have talked to Harry before doing what he did. He certainly would have thought twice before engaging in an act that would induce even more anger than what he was facing now.

"Mr. Potter, your letter indicated that you gained a bit of perspective about the wizarding public, but while there could be some discomfort for you when you attend Hogwarts, it would die down eventually. If you don't attend then you will have people out searching for you and there would be even more of a fervour. It would also be much safer for you in Hogwarts."

"No one knows where I go except for you and Professor McGonagall. You only know because I said so in the letter. As long as you keep your knowledge to your selves all should be well."

"There has been some indications that Voldemort might return. If he does then it is very likely that he will target you because of the way that his reign of terror ended a decade ago. I really believe it would be best for you to be trained in the safety of Hogwarts. It is the second most secure place in Britain."

"So you want me to go from a place where I am just a face in the crowd, a bright student amongst other bright students, to somewhere that a spotlight will be on my every move, madman may or may not be after my head, and everyone expects me to be there? This strikes you as _safe_?" The incredulity Harry was feeling was clear on his face. "I do believe I'll pass on that, thanks anyway."

"This is for the best Mr. Potter," for the first time he actually approached the child. Harry stood up and straightened his back, movement fluid and graceful. Not at all like he had been sitting with his legs folded under him for any length of time. He extended the packet and watched the boy open it warily. Harry grew progressively paler as he read through the papers.

Transfer papers to Hogwarts School for the Gifted.

"These are not valid, you have to have a guardian sign for something like this."

"As far as Headmaster Kelley knows, they were signed by your guardian. For you to go to a secure place to provide your education because of the threat posed by the cult leader who murdered your parents."

"Ha, haha, haha," Harry dissolved into hysterical laughter. "This is a joke right. A very bad joke."

"No, Mr. Potter, I assure you this is quite serious. You already know how and where to get your school supplies. On September first you will be on the Hogwarts Express or someone will be sent to pick you up. I had hoped that you would have chosen-"

"Five years." The low voice cut him off. "Five years I worked and studied and dedicated myself," the papers drifted out of Harry's hands to fall to the ground. "Five years of my life. Gone, just like that." Green eyes met his squarely for the first time. There was none of the anger that he expected. The emptiness there scared him more than any amount of anger would have though. "I will be on the train Headmaster, don't you worry yourself. Please leave now."

Albus shifted uncomfortable, looking into those eyes. "Harry, my boy," again he was interrupted, this time the voice quivered with emotion.

"Leave, Headmaster," and there it was in his eyes. Pure, unadulterated, rage. "Get away from me. Now!"

Fawkes, sensing the danger, quickly grabbed his bonded and flamed them away.

Albus clung to one thought as he was taken, it was for the best and eventually, Harry would come to see it.

ECHP

Seconds after the Headmaster left, the residents of Little Whining shivered involuntarily as a howl was heard over most of the area.

There was an unseasonable chill in the air for the rest of the month.

AN: Hogwarts next chapter. Tell me what you think.


	7. 232point78 by 1point8 plus 32

1I do not own Harry Potter.

So the last chapter got you did it. That's what I was aiming for. Thank you reviewers, your response was greatly appreciated.

Chapter7: (232.78 x 1.8)+32

Harry scowled at the papers in his hands. Once the initial outrage had passed, he had set about salvaging what he could of his life's work. A trip to the Academy -with Petunia of all people- had been enlightening. It was readily apparent that some compulsions had been involved to anyone who was looking for it.

Headmaster Kelley had told them that while his loyalty and determination to stay were admirable, he should think about the safety of the other students, and that Hogwarts was the safest place for him to be. He also mentioned that Petunia should not cave into Harry's arguments. Considering that the man took great pride in hosting the children of some very important people, security at the school was top notch. It became obvious during the conversation that his continued presence at the school was not going to be a viable option. They had managed to argue the man down to a correspondence learning program.

As the goblins were the most likely candidates to have dealings with the non magical world, he had gone to them. They had put him in contact with one of the squibs who worked for them in the muggle world. He would receive Harry's lessons by fax and send them to him via a charmed tray he had to pay a small fortune for. Franklin would get his answers back the same way and fax them to the school. There was a fee for the continuous service, but thankfully, since he would not be in residence at the school, and Kelley hadn't gotten around to revoking his scholarship yet (or rather, since Dumbledore did not know of the scholarship), the price was covered. Harry could have had the papers directed to his aunt and have her send it to him for free, but while the two could now commiserate about a certain interfering old bastard, they were not friends, he wasn't about to trust her with his future.

The papers in his hands, while children milled around outside the Hogwarts Express, represented the sharp turn his life had taken in a direction he did not approve of. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for choosing Mandarin instead of German as his language elective at Xavier.

_At least it wasn't a total loss. I can't even charge the old bastard since the fools who populate this place would probably applaud him for setting me on the true path or something. One comment on how safe Hogwarts was for me and they would fall all over themselves to scold me for wanting to stay in a muggle institution. _

If there was one thing he had noted when reading up on the esteemed headmaster, it was that he could do no wrong in the eyes of most people. The ones that did dislike the man were not necessarily people that he wanted to be allied with, not now at least, when he couldn't hold his own.

_There is much I will need to learn, if one man can just completely redirect my life with the flick of a wand, then I'll have to make myself strong enough that it doesn't happen again. Ever._

_I also have to make myself as forgettable as possible. It may have suited my purposes to be at the top of the class at Xavier and in primary, but here it will only put me more into the spotlight. I need to be in a House where it won't look strange for me to be studying at odd times. I have to at least be close to the top though: it would get attention for me to be studying all the time and only be earning middling grades. _

_I probably couldn't get into Gryffindor if I tried, Hufflepuff either. I just don't have the loyalty for the latter or the impulsiveness for the former. Slytherin is the one that fits me the most, but they'll crucify me as the next Dark Lord if I do get in. Ravenclaw is ideal and the only true option I have. No one will think twice about a Ravenclaw having a book that isn't on the booklist._

A sneer curled his lips. He had read the first year books, excepting potions, there was nothing in them that he couldn't accomplish on his own without the wand.

_Speaking of which._ Harry took out the dark red wand. He had gone through half the store before the creepy old wandmaker handed him a holly, phoenix feather combo and then seemed quite surprised when the wand had only given off a few sparks. This had been more than the absolute nothing that had happened so far, but still. The man brushed it off by saying that he'd had a feeling but appeared to be wrong. It was a further ten minutes before he had grasped his new wand. Sandalwood and kraken's blood. It had connected to his magic straight through his shields (it occurred to him in retrospect that the shield was probably the reason that none of the other wands had worked at all, also why the phoenix wand had done so poorly).

Spending the last three days in the Leaky Cauldron, he had gotten ample opportunity to test out his wand. The high magic area had disguised his use of the focus. He had long since come to the conclusion that only muggleborns were actually monitored for the use of under aged magic. And that the Ministry only tracked _wand_ magic. It was the only explanation for why no one had ever intruded on his little practices.

The wand had taken some getting use to though. The same amount of power, which gently lifted a lamp without the wand, sent it careening into the ceiling with it. Trial and error had given him a baseline for how much to put in his spells. Twirling the wand in his hand, he smiled at the cool feeling that it gave off. It certainly complemented his magic well. He would have to wait til Hogwarts to fine-tune the power of his jinxes and hexes in class with the wand, and wandlessly outside of class on some unsuspecting and unwary test subjects.

The train whistle blew, breaking his line of thought. Outside he could see children waving goodbye to their families and hurrying to get on. The ghost of a frown flitted across his face briefly and then it was gone. Harry put the papers back in his messenger bag (which he had paid to have modified to be bottomless and feather light) and withdrew one of the books he had bought that cataloged many water spells and describing their effects.

As the train started moving, a knock on the door heralded the entry of a red haired, freckle faced boy.

"Can I share with you? All the other compartments are full." A slow nod had him smiling and lifting his trunk onto the overhead rack. He sat across from Harry and shifted nervously trying to think of something to say.

"Ronald Weasley, pleased to meet you, everyone just calls me Ron," was offered with a shaky smile.

"Harry Potter."

The reaction was immediate. His eyes widened and went straight to Harry's forehead. He also appeared to lose the slight apprehension that he was feeling a minute ago.

"Harry Potter! Do you really have it? You know," his voice lowered to a whisper, "the scar?"

"Yes." Harry's voice did not invite further comment. Non the less. . .

"Can I-"

"No." Ron lowered his eyes from their place on Harry's forehead and caught the narrow eyed gaze. Eyes flitting briefly to the absently twirling wand, he sank back into his seat with a gulp.

The compartment door opened again and another red haired boy poked his head inside.

"Ah, there you are. See you're all settled in," the door opened fully to reveal a his twin as he turned to Harry.

"We're Fred and George Weasley, we just wanted to make sure that little Ronnikins here was alright." Harry found the alternating speech mildly amusing, not that it showed.

"Harry," he offered, not wanting a repeat of the previous scene.

"Alright then Harry, I guess we'll see you at Hogwarts." They closed the door behind them, leaving the two alone together.

Silence reigned as Harry read his book and Ron fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. A while later there was a knock on the door as an older woman pushing a cart of snacks opened it.

"Something off the trolley children?"

Ron pulled out a corned beef sandwich and shook his head. "None for me," he said grimacing slightly.

Harry reached into his bag for the ham and cheese sandwich he had asked Tom to prepare that morning.

"No, thank you."

"OK then dears," she said pulling the door closed behind her.

Only the crinkle of wrappers and the sound of pages turning were heard until a much younger girl barged in. Harry barely got the impression of bushy brown hair dominating a pretty face when she started to talk.

"Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." Two heads were shaken and she was about to leave when she caught sight of the book Harry was reading.

"That doesn't look like one of our textbooks," she said coming closer.

"That's because it's not."

"Oh. I read through all of my textbooks. I was so surprised when I got my letter. I do hope I do well. I imagine the children that grew up with magic will be waiting for people like me to catch up. I'm Hermione Granger by the way."

"All that in one breath. I'm impressed Miss Granger," Harry allowed the corner of his lips to curve slightly, "Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter. I've read about you-"

"I've read about me too Ms. Granger. Such interesting pieces of fiction they were."

"Are you saying the books are wrong?" Hermione asked in a scandalized tone.

"I'm saying only two people know for a fact everything that happened that night. One is vanished and I have certainly never been interviewed. The books have conjecture and nothing more."

He could see her thinking his logic through. A crease appeared between her brows.

"I see. Do you know what House you want to be in? I'd prefer Gryffindor they say that Dumbledore was in Gryffindor. If not, then Ravenclaw is a close second."

"Gryffindor, House of the courageous and daring. I somewhat doubt I'll end up there."

"What?" he had forgotten the red head was there, from the looks of it Hermione had forgotten as well. "But you're the Boy Who Lived, of course you'll be in Gryffindor."

"And you are?" Hermione wrinkled her nose briefly, not impressed with the boy.

"Ron Weasley at your service. My entire family's been in Gryffindor, I can't imagine being anywhere else. Harry's going to be a Gryffindor too, everyone knows that Potters are sorted into Gryffindor. Besides, he killed You-Know-Who."

"Personally I do believe that Ravenclaw is where I'll end up."

"But everyone says-" Ron was cut off as displeased green eyes bore into him.

"It's a good thing I'm not everyone, now isn't it?" Ron sank down in confusion. Harry Potter was a hero and everyone knew that heroes were Gryffindors. _Maybe he's just trying to get her to choose Ravenclaw instead. Who reads textbooks in the summer anyway. She's just some know it all. That's it, we'll get into Gryffindor together and she'll be with the other bookworms. That must be it. _

"I suppose I want to be known for something other than being studious," Hermione said, ignoring Ron again.

"If you do get into Gryffindor, and need someone intelligent to talk to, you'll know where to find me. And keep in mind people aren't always what the books say they are." She left the compartment to continue searching for Neville's toad.

"Glad that's over," Ron said staring at the door. "I don't want to imagine what Gryffindor would be like if she got in."

Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly. He knew people like Hermione. They were objects of ridicule to children their own ages, who did not do as well. Picked on for knowing the answers. Some tried to suppress themselves so they would fit in, others pushed anyone their own age away and strove to get the approval of their authority figures in order to validate themselves. Hermione looked to be one of the latter trying to shed that stigma.

_If the Dursley's were decent people, I could have turned out like her. _An image of himself happily looking up to Petunia and Vernon for a pat on the head and a 'well done' flashed through his mind. A shudder of pure horror worked its way through his system. _Imagine, actually trusting the authority figures in my life. I would probably have taken Dumbledore's words about safety to heart._

His contemplations were interrupted by a blond inviting himself and his two goons into the compartment.

"They say that Harry Potter is on this train," the blond announced, looking at him "are you he?"

"And if I am?"

The blond extended his hand. "I am Draco Malfoy-"

His introduction was ruined by the snickering of the redhead. "Think my name's funny do you? Let see, red hair, freckles, hand me down clothes, you must be a Weasley," he sneered down at Ron, who was clenching his wand in his hands, before turning back to Harry. "You'll find, Potter, that some wizarding families are better than others, you don't want to hang around the wrong sort. I can help you there."

"I don't doubt it. Are you related to Lucius Malfoy by any chance?" Harry had come across the name when reading about the aftermath of the war. Malfoy was one of the purebloods captured as a Death Eater but released because he claimed to be under the imperius curse.

Draco puffed up in pride. "He is my father."

"He's a Death Eater, just like all of you slimy Slytherins," Ron snapped. Harry put away his book and took out a bottle of butterbeer. He sipped while watching the two of them argue. One never knows what you can learn from conflicts like these.

"My father is a respectable and proper pureblood. Unlike you Weasley, or the rest of your blood traitor family."

"Your father should be in Azkaban with the rest of the criminals."

"The only thing criminal I see is the way that blood traitors like your parents are allowed to spawn-"

"Don't you ever talk about my family. Just cause you don't have any siblings-"

"There are what, ten of you, and you can't even afford to dress yourselves properly."

It was at this point that Ron threw himself at the blond with a yell, he managed to get in one hit before the goons grabbed him. They were just starting to beat him to a pulp when a new redhead with a gold 'P' badge on his lapels came in.

"What is the meaning of this?" he snapped pulling the goons of his brother.

"That barbarian attacked me," Draco said, wiping blood from his chin, "I demand he be punished."

"We're not even at Hogwarts yet and you're already fighting?" the prefect asked Ron.

"I couldn't just sit there while he insulted our family." Ron said, scowling at him. The skin around his eye was already turning puffy.

"I told the truth. Not my fault-"

"That's enough. The four of you are coming with me." And with that, Harry was once again alone in the train car.

_Well that was entertaining. Years of stereotyping in action. Now if only no one would enter the car for the rest of the trip._

ECHP

Harry settled his face into the familiar lines of his polite mask as he and the other first years were led into the Great Hall. He heard Hermione explaining the glamour over the ceiling. Then the tatty old hat on the stool in front of the head table began to sing. He almost sneered. They were barely here and already the stereotypes were being reinforced.

_They divide up their population in such a way that one fourth is automatically mistrusted from the time they are eleven, then wonder why the Slytherins would join someone set on taking the place over._

He paid attention to each child sorted, trying to remember names and faces. Little things like that came in handy. He was slightly disappointed when Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor. _That won't end well._

Eventually his own name was called and the whispers followed him all the way to the stool. The sound was cut off when the hat settled over his eyes.

_Well aren't you the surprise. I dare say the Headmaster is in for a rough time with you isn't he Potter?_

_The Headmaster should have minded his own business. Shall we get on with the sorting._

_Ah, yes. Such an interesting mind you have, I can see your reasoning you know, are you sure you don't want to be in Slytherin? It can help you get the power you want, more so than Ravenclaw. Intelligent as you are, you don't like knowledge in and of itself, you like it for what you can get out of it later. They could use someone like you. Salazar would weep if he could see what his House has devolved to._

_Ravenclaw offers a certain anonymity that I need for now. The power I want will be mine regardless of whether I'm in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. It might take a little longer with the eagles, but I will reach my goals._

_As you wish. _RAVENCLAW.

There was a shocked silence for a moment before the Ravenclaws burst into cheers.

The twins at the Gryffindor table, _Fred and George_ Harry reminded himself, burst into fake tears. Harry suppressed a smug smirk at the disappointment he could see on Dumbledore's face before the man cleared it, and the stunned shock in the rest of the teachers.

He took a seat next to several of his year mates, Li, Boots and Patil if he remembered correctly. They kept shooting him glances, but held off on the questions til the sorting was over. Harry twitched slightly when the Headmaster made his announcements including a warning about staying off a third floor corridor under threat of death.

_I feel so much safer already._

The food appearing was apparently the signal for the interrogation to make begin. Questions came at him from all sides as everyone started to talk at once.

_Better nip this in the bud quickly._

"Enough," he snapped, the steely hiss in his voice cutting across their chatter. "Yes I really am Harry Potter, yes I do have the scar, no you cannot touch it and if one more of you brings up the night of my parents' murder I will make sure that you regret it. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" Harry made sure to drop the temperature around them slightly, raising goose bumps on their skin and causing some to shiver.

_It might be a cheap parlor trick, _he thought as they pulled back, some paling when he glared at them, _but damn if it doesn't work. _

There was a pocket of quiet around him for the rest of the feast as conversations stuttered to a halt whenever he looked in his house mates direction.

_I think I'm starting to like this place already._

AN: So I'll end it here for now. Next chapter, Snape makes his appearance and Harry and V. have a talk.


	8. HCl plus H2O

1I do not own Harry Potter.

As always I thank those who read my story and extra props to those that review.

Chapter 8: HCl + H2O

6.00 Monday morning found Harry out by the lake in a sweat suit. He had been out there for half an hour already strengthening the shield that his parents had set on him having never given up the daily practice. The pool of energy the Killing Curse had left had diminished considerably since the first time he had encountered it two years ago. The shield itself was in very good shape, at least, when compared to what it used to be. Some areas were more fragile than others, but there were no gaping holes now other than where the AK had hit it.

Harry came up out of his meditation and made a seamless transition into his first yoga pose.

Yesterday had been spent exploring the castle and filtering out the background magic that the permeated the walls and halls. He had found more than a few hidden passages when both his water affinity and his ability to sense ambient magic had agreed that some supposedly solid walls had empty spaces behind them or they had gaps that did not follow the magical patterns from the rest of the wall.

The library had been a good find as well. He had not spent too much time in there, but the collection of books was extensive and could prove useful. Even if it was undoubtedly 'cleansed' of anything that could be considered dark magic.

_Not to mention that the Headmaster will know of anything that I borrow from that place. _Harry thought of some of the books that he had bought in the past weeks that were now languishing in his messenger bag and chuckled. _I should probably take out a few low level things from the library every once in a while. That aught to throw him off. _

He had a full set of books going from beginner to advanced levels on runes and another on wards that he would be studying at his leisure, as well as several books on offensive and defensive spells. There were a few others on the customs and history of the magical world that he left in his trunk with the majority of his school books and a book on magical creatures. If it was searched, there would be nothing too interesting in there, unlike his messenger bag which was never more than a few feet away from him at all times. Considering the amount he had paid the goblins to secure it, he was the only one who could even open the compartment they were in without some severe consequences. His books from Xavier were in there as well. It might smack of paranoia, but he would put very little past the so esteemed Headmaster.

Today the students would get their schedules. He would have to tailor his to accommodate all the extras that he would be studying.

Finishing up his stretches, Harry stripped down to his swim trunks. Gathering some water, he proceeded to do something he had learned during one of his private (unauthorized: the ability to open locks had come in handy) swims in the Xavier pool. Shaping the water over his eyes, nose, and mouth, he set his magic to filter oxygen out of the water. Making sure that it worked, he dived into the lake, the cold water not an impediment as he cut though it like one born to do so. Surrounded by his element, he released the restrictions on his magic, closed his eyes, and waited for the information that he would get.

In short order, his mind was filled with a detailed impression of the lake bed as well as the fish, plants, merpeople, grindylows, and the giant squid. Faint magical auras emanated from all of the latter three, and from some of the plants. There was also a powerful magical aura in the middle of the merpeople colony. Harry was sure there was an artifact down there, but as some of the merpeople around it in his senses were carrying spears and tridents, he would not tempt fate just to satisfy his curiosity.

Putting the artifact out of his mind, he relaxed and about half way between the surface and the bed, started to make circuits around the lake. Since the sun was not high in the sky as of yet, opening his eyes would not do anything for him. Relying only on his magic to guide him, he swam around the lake three times, going a little higher with each stroke. The last lap was swum on the surface. Lifting himself from the water, Harry made his way to his clothes, shedding droplets on the way. By the time he was dressed, his skin and hair were dry. Grabbing his bag, he pulled out his wand and a quick tempus declared that it was 7.15. He walked back to the castle and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

Answering the riddle set by the eagle on the doorknocker, he entered the common room. The circular room hummed with energy as excited first years and older early risers bustled around steps muffled by the thick star patterned midnight blue carpet which matched the star decorated domed ceiling. Blue and bronze silk wall hangings decorated the room.

The upper year students had commandeered most of the armchairs, leaving the younger ravens to gather in groups and chatter together. Several bookcases offered a good sized selection for the students. The four tables in the room hosted a number of books left by the students milling around the room. The noise level dropped as some noticed his entrance and pointed it out. His eyes swept the room and he offered a small nod.

"Good morning."

Various greetings were offered as he made his way to the first year boy's dorm. Opening the door he observed the chaos as Michael Corner and Terry Boots kept picking up books and putting them back, not knowing what to bring. Anthony Goldstein could be heard in the bathroom. Stephen Cornfoot and Kevin Entwhistle had been amongst those downstairs. Walking over to his four poster bed, he set his bag down and opened his trunk. Taking out his school robes and toiletries, he closed it and passed Goldstein on his way to the bathroom.

After a quick shower, Harry emerged to an empty room. He put all the textbooks in his bag before walking out.

There were only a few students still in the common room when he entered. Two in particular caught his attention as they got up and approached him. One's dark eyes, dark hair, and olive skin showed her Indian heritage. The other's almond shaped obsidian eyes, pale skin, and straight black hair identified her oriental heritage.

"Su Li and Padma Patil. To what do I owe the pleasure?" The two exchanged glances, then Su Li stepped forward.

"We thought that the three of us could go down to the Great Hall together," she said, voice soft.

"Did you now?" Harry murmured, "And why is that?" She looked over at the other girl again.

"We want to be friends," Padma declared, "We were going to ask you yesterday, but you disappeared off somewhere and no body knew where you were until you showed up for dinner."

"Friends. That's not a term you should bandy about lightly Ms Patil," he said looking at her and Su cooly. "It takes time to make someone a friend."

"Someone must take the first step though," Su said in her soft voice, "we have done so. Will you at least give it a try?"

Harry's lips curved slightly at the reply. "Very well then, we shall see if a friendship can be cultivated between us." He gave them a bow before gesturing to the door. "Ladies first." The two smiled.

"So, what can you tell me about yourselves?" he asked when they reached the hallway.

"My name is Padma Patil and I have a twin sister Parvati who is in Gryffindor. My parents own a business which sells ingredients from magical creatures to apothecaries, potion masters, wand makers and such. I like reading and my favourite colour is green."

"Su Li. I have a younger brother who will enter Hogwarts in three years. My father works in the Ministry and my mother is a Healer at Saint Mungo's. I like learning new languages and my favourite colour is red."

"Harry Potter. Only child and orphan. I enjoy learning magic and I like the colour blue. Pleasure to meet you both."

ECHP

Harry twitched for the second time as the defense teacher walked by.

Quirinus Quirrell was a stuttering wreck of a man who jumped whenever there was a sound, wore a purple turban that he claimed was given to him for getting rid of a zombie, and stunk of garlic. He also caused the left over energy of the Avada Kedavra curse to shift whenever he came close, had two different auras at war within his body, and made every hair on the nape of Harry's neck stand at attention. Harry sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

_One possessed teacher plus one reacting scar times one missing and presumed dead dark lord. Yes, Hogwarts is sooo safe. And me with this class three times a week. How could Dumbledore sit at the same table with him and not know that the man is possessed?_

Harry spent the rest of the period in a light meditative trance pushing energy into his shields and wondering how to direct the shade's attention away from him.

At the end of class he wasted no time hustling Su and Padma away from the DADA classroom.

"We have a break before Charms now, correct?"

"What's the hurry?" Padma asked.

"I suppose after two hours listening to him stutter I just want to get as far from here as possible."

"It would probably be easier to just read the book rather than listen to Professor Quirrell recite it in st-t-t-tuttering form," Su said getting a laugh from Padma and an amused huff from Harry.

_So how do I keep Voldemort occupied with Dumbledore? _

ECHP

_It is just not my day. First the specter of an evil wizard and now this._

After a _scintillating_lesson of 'swish and flick,' they had been warned at lunch that Professor Snape was not one to be trifled with. The seventh year that had spoken to them said that his venom was generally aimed at the Gryffindors and that he left the Ravenclaws alone for the most part as long as they did their work. This piece of advice had not held true.

Harry scowled down at his cauldron. Snape had come storming into the room like some avenging angel and then had given a somewhat pretentious speech before he had set in on Harry. He had answered the questions correctly (of course), but the man still looked at him as if he were something the Potions Master had scraped off the bottom of his shoe. He then had the gall to accuse Harry of thinking that he knew everything there was to know about potions. The man had then written the instructions on the board with no explanations what so ever and expected them to just brew the thing.

_And here I was actually expecting to be taught in a class. The book that explained the hows and whys of the potions ingredients wasn't even on the supply list. If I hadn't been interested then I would just be following the recipe._

An explosion across from him interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see a Hufflepuff's cauldron melting to slag on her flame. Her face was pained as she held her boil-covered hands away from her body.

"Foolish girl, the instructions say to add the porcupine quills after turning off the heat. Bones, take her to the hospital wing. You, Potter. Why did you not warn her about putting the quills in? Thought you would look even better in comparison?" Snape sneered down at Harry and Padma's slightly off colour potion.

_Huh. That's odd. Now that he's right beside me, I can feel foreign magic attached to him. Wonder what that is. _Reviewing the information he had collected over the summer, he almost frowned when the answer presented itself.

"I was unaware that I was getting paid to ensure the safety of your students, Potions Master Snape," Harry said in a bland tone. Padma shot him a look as he looked at Snape with his face stamped into neutrality. For the first time since the beginning of class he met Snape's eyes.

The cold black orbs were glittering with malicious intent and his aura flared. Harry reflexively strengthened his shield to bar any interaction with him. As with Dumbledore, Snape's magic slid off. Unlike Dumbledore however, who seemed to be projecting unconsciously, Snape, after a brief flash of shock gathered his magic and focused. He wasn't bringing all his power to bear, but it was the difference between a hammer and a drill.

Harry, for the first time in years felt uncomfortable in the cold air as he redirected energy to where Snape's magic was burning through his shield. Right over his eyes. A slight tightening at his temples made itself known and he bowed his head, feeling the magic dissipate as soon as he broke eye contact. The entire episode couldn't have taken more than ten seconds.Reasserting the shield, he raised his eyes to stare at Snape's black robed chest.

"Are you mocking me Potter?" Snape said, voice cold.

"Are you not Severus Snape, widely acknowledged potions prodigy, youngest recorded to get his Mastery in the last four centuries?" Harry saw several eyes widen in either shock or dismay. _Pureblood son and heir of Septimus Snape and Eileen Prince. You are also a known Death Eater and claimed to be a spy for the light at the end of the previous war. There was some speculation on the validity of that claim but since Dumbledore backed it up concerns died down. Well, at least now I know how to identify Death Eaters, not that it helps if they are close enough to attack me. _

"Five points from Ravenclaw for not helping a fellow student, and another ten for your cheek," he spun on his heels, robes flaring behind him, "Bottle up a sample of your potions and leave them on my desk. You will write a five foot paper on how the ingredients react in the Boil Removing potion and why you turn off the flames before adding the quills. Class dismissed."

"What was that all about?" Su asked as they left the class. It was clear that no one had caught the magical struggle between Snape and himself, but it was this that Harry addressed when he answered.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

The girls chattered as they walked discussing how they felt about the first day of classes. He listened with one ear, nodding in all the right places as he thought about the scene with Snape.

_He was surprised when he hit the shield the first time. Obviously blocking him was not a skill that he expected me to have. I doubt he would have done anything to physically harm me in a room full of witnesses, but whatever he was trying was not done with friendly intent. Dumbledore may trust the man enough to put him in charge of people's children, but what he did was clearly an attack on myself. He was antagonistic even before I blocked him. Whatever problems he may or my not have, he will not be allowed to get away with this._

Begging off from the girl's offer to hang out, he made his way to Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. His self updating copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ contained a list of all the teachers' offices as well as directions. Knocking on the door, he waited to here the "Enter," that came from his Head of House.

The office, while smaller, was decorated in the blue and bronze of the Ravenclaw common room. There was one bookshelf close to Flitwick's desk filled with books on charms. A plain dark blue carpet covered the floors, while blue and bronze curtains lay open at the windows. The professor's desk was covered in neatly stacked papers. Flitwick himself sat behind it and gestured Harry toward the comfortable looking chair before it.

"Why Mr. Potter, I hadn't expected anyone to come by so early in the year. I do hope you aren't having any difficulties," he said in his high voice.

"Good afternoon, Professor. As for my visit, well, as it is the first day of classes I suppose I wouldn't be having _difficulties_ per say. Just one on particular. A certain Potion's Master to be precise."

"Professor Snape does tend to have a rather. . . abrasive personality, but he is a very good potions master."

"I have no doubt that he is. He seems to carry a certain distaste for me in particular though. As I never met the man before today, I am at quite a loss as to why he dislikes me so much. I lost fifteen points today. Five for a Hufflepuff blowing up her potion and ten for telling him I was not responsible for the safety of his students. I'm fairly certain he tried to do something to me with magic as well."

"Why don't you explain exactly what happened."

Harry explained in great detail what happened from the moment that Snape entered the classroom up until the magical scuffle. At this point he neglected to mention the shield and merely stated that he felt some sort of pressure and a developing headache that stopped when he looked away. It was true enough in its own way.

"Are you positive the headache went away when you broke eye contact?" Flitwick asked.

A disapproving frown marred the tiny professor's face. He had a good idea of what Snape had done and if he was right. . .

"Alright then Mr. Potter. I will bring this to the Headmaster's attention and I'm sure this won't happen again."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick. I was unsure how this situation would be handled."

"Well, rest assured, this is exactly the sort of thing that you should talk to me about. I'm glad that you trusted me enough to come to me with it," he said, clearly still troubled. He got off his seat and Harry rose with him. As the two exited the office, Harry headed off to the owlery, while the teacher made his way to the Headmaster's office.

_Divide and conquer. Let discord prevail for Dumbledore for now. If he protects Snape, and does nothing he will gain the disapproval of Flitwick. If he does punish Snape then he loses him instead. If Flitwick discusses this with other faculty members then so much the better._

Reaching the open room filled with various owls, Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment and started writing.

_Lord Voldemort and Host,_

_As one concerned for the future, I would like to discuss some rather sensitive information with you. There is an entire unused section of the castle on the south side of the fourth floor. I would like to meet you in the third room at 04.45 tomorrow. Should you choose not to attend I would understand, but I believe it would be in both our interests for you to do so._

_A Possible Ally_

Harry folded up the paper and sealed the edges with magic. He wrote Quirrell's name on the front and told the school owl to give it to the professor when he was alone.

_Dumbledore and_ _Flitwick can have Snape for now. Voldemort is much more important._

ECHP

04.20 saw Harry waiting by a false section of wall. Of the six rooms in the part of the castle, this one was the only one that had a ready made escape hatch that he could use if things did not go well. There were three passages available to confuse, if he ran. This entire section was pitch black as well. He could navigate well enough with only the magic in the castle walls to guide him, but someone else would need something to light their way. At least he hoped so. There was no telling what the dark lord was capable of.

_I hope being dead and stuck inside Quirrell has diminished his powers. Otherwise, I might be at a severe disadvantage._

Harry was dressed in his sweats. He hoped to finish this meeting in time to get at least some exercise in. If not, then the way he was dressed would not rouse any suspicion as he had already established himself as an early riser.

Quirrell's warring aura approached the door about five minutes before the designated time. The light from the lumus showed under the door before it was opened. The unwelcome --if dim-- light put spots in Harry's vision for the several seconds it took Quirrell to find him in his shadowed corner of the room.

"Potter?" The shock on Quirrell's face would have been funny if the situation wasn't quite so dangerous.

"No stutter Professor?" Harry said, inching ever so slightly toward the illusion covered opening.

"No one would suspect me of anything. No one but you it seems,"Quirrell said closing the door.

"You have a very unique aura."

"You can see that?" Quirrell asked, frowning.

"No. I can feel it though."

"Let me speak to the boy," a voice rasped from under Quirrell's turban.

"But My Lord--,"

"Do it."

The teacher reached up with his left hand and carefully unwound the purple eyesore. The need to keep the light going was hampering his progress, but Harry did not offer to make one of his own. Finally finished, Quirrell turned his back to Harry, revealing a face at the back of his head. Red eyes met green, and, remembering the lesson from the day before, Harry strengthened his shield around his eyes. A few tense moments passed but there was no magical movement from the specter.

"Harry Potter. Do you see what you have reduced me to? A parasite without a body."

"Now, now, Lord Voldemort. We are not here to throw accusations around. Especially unfounded ones like those. I, after all, did not go to whatever secret base you were in and throw any curses at you did I?"

There was a strained silence before the specter laughed.

"Touché, Potter. You said in your letter that you wanted to discuss something with me?"

"Yes. The wizards of Britain seem to be of the opinion that I will be of a mind to sacrifice myself for their well being. I beg to differ."

"The famed Boy-Who-Lived does not want to save his worshipers. What is the world coming to?"

"Up until little more than a month ago, I did not even know this place existed. I have been doing a lot of reading since then and I must say that I am not impressed. If it were up to me, I would never have set foot in Hogwarts. Supposedly the most secure structure in Magical Britain."

"If you were so against coming to Hogwarts, why are you here? A simple rejection letter would have taken care of that."

"I did send a rejection letter. But it would appear that as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' my attendance was assured. Whether I wanted to come or not. It was, after all, for the _Greater Good._" The words were spat with such venom that Voldemort almost took a step back.

"Do you know what it's like? To have years of your life rendered near moot by a meddling old man you've never so much have said 'boo' to? To have your choices destroyed with the wave of a wand, by some one who decides that you should be happy to be put on a pedestal and cater to the whims of a stagnant, useless society. To have all these people look to you as someone who would and should die to preserve their happiness, with no regard for what you want?"

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm down. This had been eating at him more than he had thought. Voldemort was looking at him speechlessly.

"Sorry about that. The point I was trying to make, is that you razing the British Wizarding World to the ground and salting the earth would mean nothing to me."

"My goal is actually to take over and remake it to a better standard."

"Uh-huh. You might want to rethink your methods a bit though. Even if you manage to purge all of Britain of muggles and muggleborns, you'll bring the attention of the other six billion people in the world to those of magical origin here. Something tells me that a nuke would wipe out the British Wizarding World in very short order. And if no one bothers to do that then your precious purebloods will breed themselves out of existence within a few generations. Hell, with or without your plan as it is this society will collapse. Your plans just mean it falls sooner rather than later.

"Either way, as long as you don't attack me I have no reason to bother you. If you're going to destroy Dumbledore I might even help. If nothing else I want to dance on that man's grave."

Voldemort looked to be trying to digest everything he had just said.

"I would have preferred if you joined me, but non interference works out just as well. I'm not exactly sure if that's viable though."

"Oh?"

"The reason I had attacked your family in the first place was because of a prophecy."

"You don't say. As far as I'm concerned, anything to do with divination is suspect. The only reason prophesies come true is because people spend so much time making them come true. And anyway, wouldn't any prophesy concerning you hit a dead end when you, I don't know, died."

"Do I look dead to you?" Voldemort snapped at him. "Besides, I don't know the entire prophesy. I only know the first part that said that some one with the power to defeat me would be born at the end of July to parents who had defied me three times. You and the Longbottom boy fit the bill but that sniveling rat Pettigrew was one of mine and your parent's secret keeper. So I found out your location first.

"Why aren't you angry at me for killing your parents anyway? I would have expected some one meeting their parents' murderer to be. . . less forgiving."

"It has nothing to do with forgiveness. My parents were in a war. They chose a side, fought, and died for what they believed in. Being mad at you would tarnish the sacrifice they made. As for whether you're alive or not," an eyebrow raised pointedly at the specter possessing Quirrell's body, "I'm _sure_ I could put my entire being in someone else's body too."

_:Impudent little nestling:_ he muttered not quite under his breath.

_:If you're going to say things like that, you want to be a bit quieter.: _Harry never noticed when he slipped into the serpent tongue.

_:You speak!:_

Harry looked at him oddly. _:Of course I speak, what have we been doing for the past: _he pulled out his wand and did a tempus spell.

05.32.

"Almost an entire hour."

"You're a Parselmouth," seeing a small frown as Harry tried to place the term, Voldemort sighed. "It means you can talk to snakes, Potter."

"You don't say. That sounds interesting."

"You'll want to keep it to yourself though. Being a Parselmouth is just as bad as being a Slytherin as far as the public is concerned."

Harry snorted. _Another prejudice I have to keep track of._

"So, have we come to an accord? You don't try to hurt me, I don't stand in your way?"

"We have an accord."

AN: that's it for now folks. And for a few explanations: I made Snape a pureblood. There was no friendship with Lily and no crush. The enmity with James and Co. stands. He is a loyal Death Eater and a spy for V. He is not pleased with Harry both because of his father and the defeat of the dark lord.

I said already that Harry gets no special powers from the scar. His parseltongue was inherited from his mother. In fact I go by the theory that no muggleborn is truly muggleborn, they are squib born.

Just in case I haven't made it clear, harry is a water elemental with a minor air affinity. The weather display in chapter 5 was to show this.

Next chapter: Harry deals with Snape personally. And Hermione makes an appearance.


	9. 160x10 to the 6Pa

1I do not own Harry Potter.

As always, thank you to the people how spend time reading this story and I am very grateful to those of you who review.

Chapter 9: 160x10 to the 6 Pa

Albus Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt yesterday's headache trying to make a comeback as he prepared for the day.

_One official day into the term and two of my best professors are already at each other's throats, and Minerva still won't talk to me except to go over documents and school related issues._

His misstep from the summer still grated, but he had panicked when he read the rejection letter, taking the easiest course to ensure that the child was in Hogwarts. He had not counted on Minerva's reaction to hearing that Harry had 'reconsidered' attending the school. Ever since he had informed her of the change, she had been giving him suspicious looks. She had demanded to know how he had changed Harry's mind. He, of course, had not told her about how exactly he accomplished this, but his assurances that it was for the best that the child attend the school seemed only to serve to make her angrier at him. His decision to host the Philosopher's Stone was an older source of contention, as she was leery of having something that would no doubt draw unfriendly interest to the school. He missed the easy rapport that they use to have.

In all honesty now that Harry was here, he was feeling just the slightest bit of unease. The brief contact he had with him in August was not enough to get a good feel for his personality, but the sorting had been a shock. While both of the boy's parents were intelligent enough to get into Ravenclaw, they had been placed in Gryffindor. He had expected the same from Harry.

True, his childhood was not as _happy_ per say, and Albus did know that the Dursley's would keep him humble, and, more importantly, moldable in a way that growing up in the wizarding world would not have accomplished. Plus, adversity bred character. When Minerva had taken a shine to the boy, he had been certain that Harry would be a Gryffindor. It was only right that the saviour of the wizarding world be a Gryffindor after all.

His wand, too, had come as a surprise. He had asked Ollivander years ago to owl him when he sold the holly and phoenix feather wand which was brother to Voldemort's own, and had been expecting to be contacted due to the destiny they shared. When he had not received a letter from the wand maker, he had been concerned that the boy had changed his mind. He had gone to the wand maker who assured him that, yes, Harry had come by to get his wand, but instead of the brother wand to Voldemort, had an almost unnaturally complete bond with a wand created by one of Ollivander's ancestors. Ollivander said that if he had not known better, he would have sworn that the wand was custom made with a blood binding. Apparently, while wands did choose the wizard, it was more of a good match at first with a deepening connection as the wand and the wizard's magic attuned themselves to each other. Such a complete bond from the get go was rare for a generically bought wand.

Albus had to wonder what else he was wrong about.

That he wasn't in Slytherin was a blessing. Though how he could mold a hero out of a bookish Ravenclaw was driving him to fits. The careful gauntlet he had created around the stone, difficult for a first year but not too difficult, would have been easy enough to guide the young saviour to had he taken after his father in anything but looks. It was too early to tell, but the fact that he had gone to Filius was a blow to that theory. James Potter would not have gone to a professor with a complaint about another, he would have gotten revenge in the form of some prank or other. That was only if he felt the legilimency probe in the first place.

When Severus had arrived cursing the Potter name, he had not been all that surprised. The poor boy really didn't know how to let a grudge go, even if the rightful recipient was dead. Snape's first telling of the conflict in class had been heavily laced with references of Harry's arrogance in comparison with his father's. It also did not include the legilimency probe, which he only admitted to after Filius had come in with the complaint that Harry had leveled against the potions master.

Things had devolved from there.

Using legilimency on a minor was, while not illegal, severely frowned upon. Filius had wanted to report the incident to the Board of Governors, which would have likely led to Severus' dismissal. Albus had no doubt that just the thought of the professor possibly plucking secrets out of the minds of their children would send some of the parents on the Board in a tizzy. Most of those would definitely be some of the darker families.

He could not afford to have Severus dismissed from Hogwarts. When Severus had come to him three years before the war ended, he had been ecstatic. Severus had shown him his memories and demonstrated true remorse for the things he had done as a Death Eater. He had said that he wanted to repent in any way for his terrible actions. Albus had been touched when he broke down in tears. He had always known that beneath the gruff exterior was a lonely boy just crying out for some help. It was the pressure from his peers and family that had caused him to join.

He had not wanted to do it, but the tide of the war had turned in Voldemort's favor. So he convinced the distraught young man that the best thing to do to get redemption was to become a spy for the light. He could see the shock reflect in Severus' eyes. He had to reassure him that any further actions he took as a spy would be for the greater good.

The information that Severus revealed helped to stop a number of raids, and the Order had eventually accepted him as an asset if not exactly a trusted member. When Sybill Trelawney had given her prophecy, he had felt the stirs of hope at the end of the war, even as he had worried of the time it would take to train a child to defeat the dark lord. He had some concerns as someone had heard a part of the prophecy before he could properly close the door, he never did find out who it was. The Potters and Longbottoms had only told him of their recently discovered pregnancies, and were the only ones who fit the criterion. When Severus came to him four nights later with the news that Voldemort had killed a new recruit for failing to find out the entire prophecy, he had already impressed upon the two couples the importance of immediate action.

No one knew that the couples would be going into hiding until after the fact. Lily Potter, as a Charms Mistress, had cast the Fidelus for her family, while he had cast the one for the Longbottoms.

The tragic events on Halloween 1991 had caused the downfall of the dark lord and the capture of some of his minions. Igor Karkaroff had fingered Severus as a Death Eater, forcing Albus to reveal his position as a spy. Severus had been released into his custody and he had offered him a job at the school.

If Severus was dismissed, he would have no way to keep him close for when Voldemort eventually returned. He was their only spy, and too valuable to lose.

Filius had argued hard for reporting Severus, but Albus had gotten him calmed down by pointing out that he was one of the best Potions Masters in the field and would not be easy to replace. He had also had to reprimand Severus for his actions and promised an apology for Harry. Neither of the two were satisfied, but Severus had realized that his job was on the line, and had given in. After Filius had left Severus had given him a more complete version of the story and said that he had not wanted to bring up the legilimency until he was sure of what he had felt. As he had never heard of a natural Occlumens before either Albus accepted it.

What Severus did might have been wrong, but it did uncover valuable information.

As he made his way down to breakfast, Albus contemplated how to plant the first clues for a certain boy saviour to find.

ECHP

"If the professor does not come soon she will be late." Su Li turned concerned eyes to the door.

Harry looked at the cat in front of them on the professor's desk and resisted the urge to lift an eyebrow. The body might have been different but the magic was the same. The stiff posture and glasses like pattern around the cat's eyes did nothing to enhance the disguise.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," he murmured quietly to the girl beside him. Padma sat behind them with Boot. All the Ravenclaws were present, sitting in pairs. A familiar girl was across from he and Su on the Gryffindor side of the room.

_Granger, was it? The authority lover. _He glanced at the empty seat beside her and the equally empty ones behind her. The dedication she showed to the book in front of her was singular. _Looks like her gambit to be known for something more than being studious crashed and burned._

His thoughts were interrupted as Weasley and a sandy blond ran into the room.

"We made it."

McGonagall chose this time to jump from the desk and shape shift. As she reprimanded the two, Harry took in the awed look on his classmates faces. It really was an impressive piece of magic. She proceeded to recite an introduction to the course, turning he desk into a pig and back. The first part of the class was pure lecture before she demonstrated the wand movements and spell to change a matchstick to a needle.

Harry held the piece of wood in his palm, changing it from stick to needle and back within a few seconds, while the professor walked down the aisle. Stifling a disgusted sigh, he put the matchstick in plain view on the desk and pointed his wand at it.

_This pretending business is going to get real old, real fast. _Tuning out the sounds of his classmates he turned his attention to this mornings meeting with Voldemort.

_That whole thing went much better than I thought it would. Something about what he said about Pettigrew is bugging me though. I was too nervous to pick it up then, but I could have sworn I read that a Black was the one who betrayed my parents. Pettigrew was awarded something or other posthumously. I have to send a letter to Stradruk, the transcripts of the Black trial are probably available. _

His thoughts were derailed as McGonagall awarded Hermione five points for completing her the transformation.

_There's my cue._

An absent flick of his wand and half hearted mutter of the spell left a perfect needle on his desk. A glance at Su Li showed that she had a silver matchstick.

"Well done, Mr. Potter. Five points to Ravenclaw. Now you should work on changing it back."

"Could you help me please?"Su whispered.

"Certainly."

He spent the rest of the period coaching Su through the transformation.

After class, Padma, Su, and Harry bumped into Hermione in the corridor.

"Miss Granger. So how is Gryffindor treating you?" _Okay, so it is slightly cruel to bring it up,_ he noted as Hermione's shoulders tightened, _but I did warn her. Sort of._

"It's been great, thank you," she said with a strained smile, "And how are you?"

"Ravenclaw is wonderful," a pointed cough interrupted him. "Where are my manners? The lovely lady on my right is Miss Padma Patil," he waited while the two shook hands, "And the vision of beauty on my left is Miss Su Li." Su shot him an amused look before greeting the other girl.

"Why aren't I a vision of beauty?" came Padma's indignant voice.

"I have a class," Hermione cut in stepping away from them and turning to leave.

"Pride goes, Miss Granger," his soft voice managed to cut through the sounds of children traversing the hall. Hermione's back was ramrod straight as she walked away, shoulders tightening even further.

"What was that all about?" Padma asked when they started walking toward the stairs.

"Granger and I had an interesting conversation on the train ride here. She wanted to be a Gryffindor, just like the Headmaster."

"If she didn't belong in Gryffindor, she would not be in Gryffindor," Padma objected.

"I'm sure she can be brave given the right environment and motivation, but I'm betting she argued the Hat into that House. I'm also betting that she is starting to regret it."

"She sat alone the whole period," Su mused.

"She sat alone last night at dinner as well, and this morning at breakfast," he added. "I had told her that people aren't always how they are presented in books, and offered an ear if she needed it."

"She won't take it," Su said with conviction.

"Not according to how things went just now, no," he agreed.

"How do you know that?" Padma asked looking between the two.

"'Be careful what you wish for' is a well known proverb. Granger got what she wanted and things aren't working out how she thought they would," Harry said.

"She remembers the conversation as well," Su continued, "and is probably embarrassed that she might actually need that ear. That's what you meant, isn't it? About her pride?" Su focused a penetrating gaze on him.

"Yes. Her pride won't allow her to say that anything is wrong., and any overture I make will have the scent of pity on it."

"Ah, I get it," Padma nodded, "So now the true test begins. It's still early in the year, she might still be able to make friends. But what sort of friends will she make?"

"Exactly," he said, " She could talk to people outside her House, but the fact that she has no one inside will eat at her. And she probably has too much work ethic to buy friendship by doing anyone's work for them."

The three paused outside the common room door to answer the riddle. They made their way to an empty table and sat down. With an hour to go before lunch, Su Li and Padma started on the Transfiguration essay, that Harry, due to successfully changing the matchstick to needle and back, was exempt from. He took out a biology text and started studying.

_Gryffindor is going to break that girl._

ECHP

That evening found Harry alone on the fourth floor. Passing the library, he was about to enter one of the passages that would take him to the abandoned part of the castle when the resident potions master's magic appeared at the edge of his awareness. Assuming that he was going to the library, Harry decided to find a different passage farther away. When Snape's presence did not disappear, he thinned his shield in front enough to get a mental overlay of everything before him for thirty meters.

His explorations on Sunday had made him more familiar with the secret passages than with the hallways. One such passage was running parallel to him now and there was a stair at the end of it that led up to the fifth floor. Deciding against going to his original destination, he tried to focus on keeping track of Snape on his mental map while feeling out the area in front of him. Once he felt he had a good grasp of the surroundings, Harry smirked.

He had always been a big believer in reaping the consequences of your actions.

ECHP

Severus Snape observed the arrogant child that had swept in and so casually made a mess of his life. Had been making a mess even before he was born. Severus scowled when he remembered the _cruciatius_ he had been put under for not finding out the entire prophecy.

The good old days.

He had joined the Death Eaters right after graduation, partly because it was expected of him, but mostly for the knowledge he could now exercise on live subjects. Potions he had theorized could now be created and tested. Even if they could never see the light of day with his name attached to them.

Not if he wanted to stay out of Azkaban.

Then his Lord had chosen him -_him_- to spy on Dumbledore. It was because of his Occlumency shields of course. Even back then he had been proficient in the art. The Dark Lord had still spent several weeks helping him strengthen his shields and testing his ability to hide his true feelings while appearing to be open. Dumbledore was rather proficient himself after all. And so he was sent out to play the broken, regretful, penitent.

Both he and the Dark Lord had expected that he would be asked to give up what information he know and then put into the fray to fight with Dumbledore's ridiculous Order. That he would have to pretend to fight his comrades in the open while secretly reporting to his Lord.

Instead Severus had blanched in shock when the man actually tried to convince him that being a spy would be the best thing he could do to gain forgiveness. Severus had buried the sudden urge to curse the man. What if he had actually wanted to get out of the Death Eaters? That Old Coot would have twisted the feelings of grief into a conviction that he should go back and any _new _killing he had to do while spying was covered under a _greater good_ clause in heaven. Severus had felt rather outraged on behalf of his fictitious self.

The Dark Lord had laughed himself sick. He also pointed out that Severus could basically do everything he had been doing before and get on with his life. Only now the Dark Lord would fake a few raids which he would tell the Order about and any too idiot Death Eaters (usually new recruits or those with wavering loyalties) would be sent on them.

He had handled his 'spying' as well as his regular duties of making potions for his Lord, earned his Mastery, and everything had gone well.

Until that stupid prophecy.

And the disaster on Halloween.

At least his 'spying' for Dumbledore had kept him out of Azkaban when that bastard Karkaroff had squealed. Even gotten him a job. Not that he liked teaching, mind you. But at least he would be close by if -_when_- his Lord returned.

So here he was now, ten years later, following the son of his school days nemesis and the one who had brought about the fall of the man he served. He was sure the boy was up to something, his father had always been up to something. Not that he could hurt the little bugger. James Potter's godforsaken owed life debt had passed itself on to his son. Well, he might not be able to hurt the brat, but he could make his life hell.

That whole thing yesterday had shocked him out of his common sense. He had only been going for a light skim of the boy's surface thoughts, but then he had hit a shield. So he had tried to break in. Not that he accomplished that, the boy broke eye contact before he could.

_Natural Occlumens, my arse. I bet someone trained him. There's something to think about. And I'm pretty sure we're walking in circles too,_ he looked around in confusion, _Where did he go? _

He looked up and down the corridor whose corner he had just turned. Hurrying down the hall, he came to a staircase heading to the third floor. He could not hear the boy, but there was no way that he could have reached the end of the hall before he turned the corner.

Severus made it down five steps before his foot slid right out from under him. A surprised cry escaped his lips as he reached for the handrail.

And missed.

He had just enough time to feel pain explode in his knee and leg before his world went dark.

ECHP

The ceiling swam into view as Severus opened his eyes. A pained whimper slipped through his lips as his head throbbed. His hand came up to touch the bloody knot at the back of his head.

He attempted to lift himself only to collapse in agony as his lower body shifted. Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out a pain reliever and downed it. It wasn't strong enough to take the pain away, but it dulled somewhat. Taking stock of himself, he came to the conclusion that he had broken his right femur and torn through the skin. If the bones in his knee were not broken, then the ligaments were torn. His left ankle was at least sprained.

The wetness he could feel at his leg was not encouraging.

"You appear to be in need of help, Potions Master Snape."

That infuriating politely neutral tone caused him to freeze. He was awkwardly gathered at the bottom of the staircase and, sitting halfway up, was the source of his troubles.

Severus examined the boy, slightly disturbed. Any other first year would have probably run off to get help or, at the very least, be highly agitated. Potter just sat there watching him calmly, the same bland smile that he had seen in class on his face. Severus was starting to wonder if he was all there. His attempt to discreetly palm his wand was thwarted by the fact that his wand was not on his person.

"Are you looking for something?" Potter's smile didn't even waver as he glanced at the step beside him and back at his professor. Following the glance, Severus saw his wand resting next to the child. He swallowed and made sure none of his nervousness showed on his face. There was definitely something wrong with the boy.

"Mr. Potter, could you get Madam Pomphrey for me? Please." He made his voice as calm as he could. He was a full grown wizard and, normally, would not think of any child as a threat. But bleeding on the floor of a deserted --if the dust gathered on the ground was anything to go by– corridor, without his wand, looking into the distressingly empty eyes of the eleven year old, he was very much afraid.

"Now where is my motivation to do that, Potions Master Snape?"

"Pot- Harry, if you don't get help it is very likely that I might bleed to death right here."

"Oh, I know," the smile widened a fraction, "I think you may have nicked one of the smaller veins in you thigh when the bone broke. I give it about half an hour before you fall unconscious."

"You don't really want to be a murderer at this stage of your life, do you Harry?"

Harry adjusted his glasses with a finger and tilted his head to the side. The smile went away.

"Yesterday was the first time we ever met face to face, that I can remember, and you took the opportunity to attack me. I take exception to things like that, Potions Master. This might be my prison for the next seven years, but I'll be damned if I spend that time with people who will take the first opportunity they have to attack me."

Severus was very alarmed. That disturbing smile was gone, but he wasn't sure if the expressionless mask he was faced with now was any better. In the seven years of antagonism between him and the boy's father, he had never seen James Potter's face look anything like this.

"That was a regrettable mistake, that won't happen again."

"One way or the other, I'm sure that it won't."

Severus twitched when he got up.

"Don't worry Potions Master, I'll get Madam Pomphrey for you. I'm sure if nothing else, you've learned not to follow students down abandoned corridors."

The predatory grin that graced Harry's lips caused Severus to blanch as he processed the implications of the statement that it came with. The cold voice drifted down as he climbed the stairs.

"If I ever trace an attack on myself to you, it won't be a leg that you break."

AN: Okay then, featuring creepy!Harry. I'll explain what he did in the next chapter. I'm sure most of you will have figured it out.

Sorry for the wait too. RL caught up with me for a while there.

For those of you who PMed me, I feel the need to clarify the title of the previous chapter. The HCl in this case is the gas hydrogen chloride, not the acid which is the end result of the titular formula. So it does make sense in the context of the chapter. Sorry for the confusion.


	10. 273point15 x 1point8 minus 459point67

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you readers and reviewers.

Fear not, I was not idle during my little vacation. I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter 10: 273.15 x 1.8 - 459.67

The shade of one Tom Marvolo Riddle languished into his host's body as he contemplated the boy who brought his conquest of the British Wizarding World to a screeching halt.

When Pettigrew had come to him just days before Halloween with the Potters' address he had been ecstatic. Ever since the prophecy had been uttered, both they and the Longbottoms had disappeared under the Fidelius Charm. He had wanted to rid himself of the threat that both children offered and was planning to kill them both. No one knew who the Longbottom's Secret Keeper was, but Sirius Black was the only choice there could be for the Potters.

He spent more than a year trying to capture Black, who proved why he was one of the DMLE's best Aurors. An ambush on the 25th of October had very nearly succeeded, then, on the 27th Pettigrew had come to him with the news that the Potters had switched to him. It seemed like a godsend.

He had decided to attack on Halloween to give them time to feel secure in their choice.

He could appreciate power, and Lily Potter was very powerful. He had offered her the choice to step aside after putting down her husband. Truthfully, he didn't really expect her to take it, but he offered anyway. She fell to him and then he turned his wand on Harry Potter.

Then it all went wrong.

He remembered the Avada Kedavra leaving his wand and heading toward the baby. Then it hit a shield he had never seen before and came right back at him. He had paused in shock for the split second it took for the curse to hit him and the next thing he knew he was floating around bodiless.

Anchored to Earth only by an Egyptian necromantic ritual, he had spent a decade gathering the power to be able to perform his own resurrection. The Philosopher's Stone would boost the power that he had available and could only help. He would also have to redo the Egyptian ritual when he got a new body.

The Egyptian ritual had not been the first one he had encountered that helped to grant immortality, but he rethought the horcrux idea after finding written detailing of the insanity that invariably followed the act of splitting one's soul. What good was immortality if he was too crazy to enjoy it. So he took his second choice and was very happy to have done so.

The letter on the first day of classes had been surprising. He had been wary at first when his host had opened the door to a dark room. What was revealed by Quirrell's _lumus _stunned him. The thought that it was the so called Boy-Who-Lived that was meeting him had never entered his mind. The urge to curse the child occurred to him, but then he realized that his host would have to cancel the light to be able to do so. The boy was smart.

The entire conversation that followed did nothing to disperse this belief. Potter was intelligent, self-serving, and nursing a grudge against Dumbledore. He would be a good ally or a deadly enemy in a few years when he was actually trained. He was definitely an ally for now and apparently the only thing needed to keep him that way was not to attack.

He did not agree with Potter's views on the eventual collapse of the WW. Under a strong leader (himself) they could advance to more than they were right now. Powerful mudbloods could find a place. Muggles were a threat that needed to be taken care of, but he did raise a valid point with the shear numbers that would be against Voldemort if he was to try and kill them all. There had to be something that could be done, but he could think about that later.

Potter's behaviour following their meeting was a telling thing. Voldemort, who was watching rather closely at this point, could tell where Dumbledore dropped the quaffle with him. If he and Potter had never talked, he might actually believe that the pleasant, polite mask that the boy presented to the world was real. And while it was a subtle thing, he also noticed that Potter would always shift slightly to avoid being touched. Where ever the boy grew up, touching was not a good thing. It reminded him of his own childhood.

Then there was the thing with Severus. While he was helping his subordinate with his Occlumency in preparation of his spying assignment, he had seen Severus' utter hatred of James Potter. A hatred that had passed on to the son, if his disparaging of the boy was any indication. Then came the day when Potter 'saved' Severus from bleeding to death after he 'fell'. Voldemort did not doubt for a minute that his potions master's 'fall' was aided by Potter. What he could not figure out was why Severus said nothing on the matter. There were also the rather uneasy glances that Severus sent in Potter's direction when he thought that no one was watching. What ever had happened between the two had shaken Severus badly.

There was nothing to do but go to the source and see what he could find out.

ECHP

_This is just too perfect. The pureblood heir of an ancient House thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Which means a dereliction of duty on the part of Mister Chief Warlock. I wonder how much he gets paid for holding that title? _

After more than two weeks of getting the runaround from the Ministry in regards to Black's trial transcripts, the goblins had resorted to bribing one of the drones to copy the files. Harry didn't know the specifics of that, but suffice to say, there were no files for Sirius Orion Black. Not sealed, not removed, not available.

Harry chuckled. _Good things come to those who wait indeed._ _Bagnold and Crouch share more responsibility for this particular scandal in the making, but they aren't the ones that ticked me off. I'm sure they won't mind if that delightful gossip monger at the Daily Prophet keeps the attention on Dumbledore._

Dropping the letter on what used to be the teacher's desk, he reclined back in his transfigured chair. While he could not make the change permanent, it was not that difficult to change the straight back chair to a more modern cushioned office one. Save for one chair on the other side of the desk, he had emptied the room of everything else. As he looked to the left, he appreciated the spectacular view from the fourth floor windows of the afternoon sun reflecting off the lake. Not that he chose the room for the view. It was the only one other than the room farther up the corridor where he had met Voldemort with access to the hidden passages.

_An anonymous letter to Skeeter, I think. How tragic that the scion of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black should suffer this indignity. After all, if this could happen to a member of one of the most prominent pureblood families, who is to say that there aren't more people in Azkaban who did not receive even the illusion of a trial. As the Headmaster of a school and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW maybe Dumbledore is too busy to hold the position of Chief Warlock. And if he's too busy to preside over trials, then maybe someone else who does have the time should be given the job. He's an old man after all._

_Of course, this will only be an annoyance if Black did kill those people. But if he didn't. . .and I know for a fact that he isn't one of Voldemort's, which probably figures more into his stay in Azkaban than his so called murderer status. _

Harry reached into a desk drawer and pulled out two sheets of parchment. The first was his letter to Rita Skeeter. His second was for Stradruk, telling him to go through with his plan to contact the Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones. It also asked him to send Skeeter her letter by owl. He wanted his name nowhere near this. Supposedly the goblins wanted Black's records because of some audit or other and in case of an inheritance issue. Stradruk assured him that his interest in the matter was never mentioned.

While the goblins had been very helpful to him, he got the feeling that they helped less out of any liking of him and more out of a dislike of wizards as a whole. His actions so far had the potential to cause widespread disruptions in the Ministry, which they hated with a passion, and problems for Dumbledore, who they apparently didn't like too much either. He didn't mind too much as long as they did what they were supposed to.

Placing both letters on the mail tray, he touched it with his magic, said "Stradruk's office" and watched the papers disappear.

_That's one thing taken care of. Now, I just have to organize what to do for tomorrow._

The first week of school, he had done the work the day before it was due, which would have been alright if he had not also had the magical assignments to get done. He had gotten everything completed at the expense of some sleep, but he had since then reconciled both schedules. Harry thanked his parents genes for his intelligence. He had taken to using Saturdays, such as this one, and Sundays to do all his Xavier assignments for the week, while using the weekdays to read ahead(he had explained to Padma and Su Li that, as a solitary person, he needed some 'me time' and had designated the weekends as such). By the time Fridays rolled around with the next weeks assignments he had already digested the material and needed only to complete the work.

Shifting the papers on his desk, he set the finished assignments in a neat stack on his right and placed what he had yet to do on his left. Reaching down into the bag at his feet, he searched around for the beginner rune book. Glamours were all well and good for concealing the titles of any book he wanted to keep to himself while still reading in the open, but he went with the simple expedience of asking his squib contact to buy book covers and send them to him. Since there were some muggleborn students in Ravenclaw who also used book covers it passed unnoticed. Picking up where he had left off, he settled back to enjoy.

A few chapters in, the simple ward he had gotten out of the beginner's guide made itself useful. It was more of a trip-line than anything else, telling him that someone was heading to the west corner leading to his corridor. About ten seconds passed before a familiar warring aura entered his senses.

_What are they doing here? _

Quirrell headed to the room they had met in and opened the door. He dithered for a moment before walking back to the second room, then the first. While he was tempted to see if Quirrell would search every room in the hall, Harry decided not to waste the time and used his magic to push the door open. He could tell the exact moment that the possessed teacher noticed, as the man's heartbeat sped up slightly. He tracked the teacher's movements until he entered the room.

"Can I help you, Host?" _Not exactly diplomatic, _he thought, watching Quirrell's eyebrow twitch, _but he is in my territory without an invitation. And I rather doubt it's in his capacity as a Professor._

Harry had the rather dubious pleasure of feeling Voldemort's aura overwhelm Quirrell's. The energy under his scar churned and settled after a few seconds. _I wonder why he didn't do this at the beginning of the month?_

"Potter."

"Lord Voldemort. Please, have a seat," he said gesturing to the chair. He had no doubt that this was Voldemort. Quirrell's body posture had completely changed and he moved differently. Even his face looked different with someone else in control. "How have you been?" he asked with a smile.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes briefly before casting his gaze around the room.

"Nice setup you have here," he said sitting down, a brief spell transfiguring a much more comfortable armchair.

"I rather like it myself," Harry replied. Silence reigned for a minute. He replaced the bookmark and set the rune book on the desk. "Is there a particular reason that you sought me out, or do you just want the pleasure of my company?" he prompted clasping his hands over his stomach and discreetly palming his wand as he did so.

"You said, when we spoke before, that Dumbledore had upset some plan of yours. What plans were those?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Perhaps I just want to know that whatever scheme you have going doesn't interfere with my own ambitions."

"You could have just said that you want to learn more about me, you know,"he stated, polite neutral.

Voldemort ran searching eyes over his face for several moments.

"It takes a special kind of upbringing to produce someone like you," he said softly. "I want to know how Dumbledore went so horribly wrong."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, head tilting in query.

"I've been watching you. With your friends, with your teachers, with your peers. You don't like to be touched, and only very rarely is there a real emotion on your face. 'Harry Potter, such a polite young man.' Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that? It isn't all there is to you, it can't be. That first day of classes, Severus was cursing the Potter name in the staff room. By the middle of the week he was in the Hospital wing after _falling_ down a set of stairs, where you so conveniently found him. The other teachers credit his avoidance of you to his pride and the fact that you saved his life. I know better.

"Severus hated your father all the more when James saved his life. He should be making your life more difficult, not less. I know what I saw those weeks ago, the vengeful anger buried inside. I don't think that anyone can match Severus for that emotion. So what could he have seen behind that so polite mask of yours that has him silenced whenever your name comes up?"

_Ah, yes. Potions Master Snape. He's been so quiet for the last while that I haven't thought too much about him. So whatever problem he had with me had more to do with my father then. Either way, the issue is taken care of. _

Indeed, the whole incident with him had worked wonders for the man's behaviour toward Harry. He told Madam Pomfrey that he had been exploring when he heard a sound and found Snape at the bottom of the staircase. He left out the part where he had been waiting in a hidden passage for his stalker to pass and then frosted the step he would be walking on. A minor air barrier had prevented Snape from grabbing the railing.

_I learned something about myself watching Snape bleed to death, his life meant nothing to me. It would have been so easy to just sit there and feel his lifeblood drain away. It was so interesting, the magic in his blood fading the longer it was out of his body. If I had stayed any longer I would have given in to the urge to just _feel._ That, more than anything, is what he has to thank for the fact that he lives today. Not the thought that I didn't want to become a murderer, but that it wouldn't mean anything to me for him to die. A life should mean something, even to the one taking it. Perhaps especially to the one taking it. _

When he had returned with the nurse, Snape never let his eyes leave Harry's form until he passed out.

Harry had earned Ravenclaw a 100 points courtesy of Dumbledore. There were rumors running the gamut, from he had saved Snape from some sort of attack, to Snape had saved him from some sort of attack, to he had attacked Snape in a fit of rage. Ironically, the last, which was closest to the truth, was dismissed because of the points awarded.

The Headmaster had spent the next few days twinkling at him in approval, so Snape did not tell him of their little conversation. Not that he was worried about that. He could quite truthfully swear an oath that he had not cursed Snape into falling. Anything he told the potions master would be disregarded as the boasts of an eleven year old trying to appear more powerful than he was, and taking credit for an accident. Something his wand would support as the last thing on it would have been the spell to change the matchstick into a needle.

When Snape returned to class on Friday he was in fine form, scaring the Hufflepuffs and snapping at the Ravenclaws. The only difference was that now Harry was ignored with a single-minded intensity. There was also a slight shiver whenever Harry smiled at him.

"Why don't you ask the dear potions master what he saw?" he asked seeing that the dark lord was waiting for an answer.

"What makes you think that he'll tell Quirrell. The only thing he's said about the whole thing is that he fell," came Voldemort's disgruntled reply.

"He is one of yours, is he not?"

Quirrell's eyes blinked in surprise. "And how, pray tell, do you know that?"

"It's amazing the sort of information that's available for the right price." _That and the fact that your magic clings to him in that mark of yours. _"He might even help you with that Cerberus problem you have."_ You aren't here for me, and I doubt the Cerberus is in that room for its health. _

"I won't let you distract me that easily," Voldemort said, eyes narrowed, "Why is Severus so wary of you?"

"What did Snape see? It's hard to tell, people so rarely see the truth. I think he might have though."

"The truth?" It was easy to see that Voldemort was not a patient man.

_Or maybe he doesn't see me as enough of a threat to hide his emotions. Probably a good thing._

"I think it was the first time that he saw me as a person. One that could very well leave him on that floor to die. He was probably sweating buckets wondering if I would actually return with help. I don't think he liked it very much."

"I see." The dark lord did appear to understand. "And your upbringing?"

"What do you say we make a deal? You tell me all about your childhood, and I'll tell you about mine."

"Maybe," something unpleasant passed over his face, "some other time. See you around Potter." Voldemort's presence abruptly receded, leaving Quirrell in control of his body again. The man shook himself for a moment before getting up.

"Potter," he said with a small nod.

"Have a good evening Professor."

The man walked out the door, closing it with a small click, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

_Huh. No happy childhood memories for you then. How interesting._

ECHP

05.00 Sunday morning found Harry engaging in his newest study.

Occlumency.

When he had asked Flitwick the name of the technique that Snape had used against him, the tiny professor had informed him of the attack, the defense, and had given him a small book on the theory of how to create an Occlumency shield. Apparently, even with Snape in the Hospital wing, he was still sore about his actions.

Harry had thought that it would be simple. He already knew how to meditate, all he had to do was focus on reaching his memories instead of his magic. Easier said than done. Unfortunately, two plus years worth of habit had sent him almost immediately to his magical core. It had taken the better part of two weeks just to reach the representation of his mind. And now, days after that he was still facing one, persistent problem.

"Where the bloody hell are the memories that I'm supposed to be organizing? And how am I supposed to find them in _this_?!"

If he didn't know for a fact that he was in Scotland, he would have thought that someone had dropped him in the middle of Antarctica, in winter no less.

It was dark, windy, and snowing. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

_Wonderful. At least I'm not cold. Probably something to do with my expectations. In the real world the snow and wind would bother me, but my body will always be at a comfortable temperature as long as my magic isn't focused on anything else. Of course, I don't expect my mind to have a storm going on in it either. _He waited for a few seconds. If anything, the snow came down harder. _It was worth the try._

Harry spent several minutes trying to figure out where to go when one of the infrequent flashes of lightening reflected off something in the distance.

_Finally! Even if it turns out to be nothing, that's the first sign I've had that there is anything in this place._

In short order he found himself looking at his reflection on a glowing background in a full length mirror. It was the only feature in the frozen wasteland that represented his mind.

He raised an eyebrow when his reflection smirked before reaching a hand out to him. Harry mirrored the gesture and touched the glass. He had to close his eyes as a flood of emotion pressed against his consciousness.

"This. . . these are mine. Contempt, yea gods, so much contempt. Good portion of anger too."

_This is what drives the storm. The contempt feels so old. I suppose it would be though. After nine years of living at the Dursley's it makes sense. There's no hate here though. Guess they aren't worth the effort. The anger feels new though. Probably Dumbledore's contribution._

His eyes opened and saw that the mirror no longer showed his reflection. Just the storm. He lifted his hand from the surface and watched the scene disappear. It was at this point that he turned around and realized he was no longer outside.

_No wonder it looked like it was glowing._

He was in a huge, brightly lit cavern. The walls from floor to ceiling were covered in different sized mirrors. There were only a few full length ones though.

_I'm supposed to go through these one by one? Quite frankly I only need a way to keep others from rifling through my mind. That damn storm outside does that more than a little effectively._

Harry brought himself out of his meditative state, scowling as he remembered days of wandering around in the storm.

_I wonder if Flitwick is any good at Legilimency. I'm not about to go through the trouble of building Occlumency shields if it isn't necessary. _

He made a mental note to ask the charms master later on.

ECHP

_You know, if this were a comic I would be laughing maniacally right about now, _Harry thought looking at the headline of the _Daily Prophet_. The students were exclaiming and chattering at the proclamation.

The Headmaster's chair was empty this morning, just as it had been several times during the week since Skeeter had started her campaign against him. The reporter had a ball dragging his name through the mud.

Between the Minister of Magic, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Head of the Wizengamot that were in office in 1991, only Dumbledore still held his position and was therefore taking the brunt of the fall out. All in all, Harry felt rather like patting himself on the back.

He finished his eggs and reminded Padma and Su Li that it was Friday, therefore they had Snape first thing and he didn't tolerate lateness. He caught another glimpse of someone's _Prophet _as they got up to leave. It declared in large print:

**SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT!**

AN: Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I have everything plotted out for the rest of the year so there should not be anymore long pauses unless something really stressful happens in my life. Thank you for reading.


	11. 2001 minus 1991

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you readers and reviewers.

Chapter11: 2001-1991

Harry was staring at him again. He and Su Li had finished and bottled their potion. They were now just waiting for the end of class.

Severus snapped at a Hufflepuff who was about to make a mess of his potion, before continuing to patrol the room. He wasn't sure what to make of the Ravenclaw, but the fact that he had been watching him on and off for the last week was disconcerting. Having the attention of crazy people was never a good thing. Having the attention of a crazy person with magic was worst.

Following the. . . _Incident. . ._ he had done quite a bit of thinking. The conclusion he had come to would have surprised anyone who knew of the animosity between James Potter and himself, but he had never been one to indulge in self delusion. The Incident had been his fault. He had willfully and deliberately set out to antagonize the boy and had succeeded in doing exactly that. Being grateful he had not bled to death wasn't the measure of success he had been looking for.

He could have ranted to Dumbledore about it, the thought had crossed his mind, but what could he say? He hadn't felt a hex, or a curse, or anything else hit him. It didn't help that everyone always praised the boy for being bright, sweet, and polite. Everybody's darling. Accusing him would only make Severus look paranoid and unreasonable. That Harry could have been lying occurred to him, but he wasn't a clumsy person, and the memory of green eyes watching his broken body dispassionately was burned in his brain.

Severus pinpointed that as the point where the boy had started going from 'Potter' to 'Harry'. No matter how much like his father the boy looked physically, Potters were suppose to be right up there with the Weasleys as epitome Gryffindors. It hadn't sunk in till then that the boy wasn't a Gryffindor.

So he had kept quiet and started treating Harry like one of his more quiet Slytherins. A live and let live sort of situation. It helped that the boy didn't seem inclined to gloat, he just looked on politely and did his work. Nothing to suggest that there was a soulless monster living in his skin. It had worked for weeks, then Harry began giving him considering looks.

Even the news that Black had gotten out of prison –it never made sense that he had betrayed Potter anyway– was pushed to the back of his mind. As the bell sounded to signify the end of the lesson, he employed his occlumency to keep himself from tensing when Harry sent his hangers on ahead. Severus was in a much better position now than he had been the last time they were alone together, he had his wand in hand and hadn't just cracked his skull on a stone step. He still stood with the desk between them though.

"Is there some thing I can help you with?" he asked, keeping his tone moderate.

"I was recently introduced to a new area of study and would like your input." With Harry there watching him attentively and asking for his aid, he could almost understand the teachers that raved about the child. Almost.

"You only just started school. Everything is a new area of study for you."_I am a fully trained wizard, very proficient in Dark Arts and their defense. I am not afraid of an eleven year old. A healthy dose of caution never hurt anyone._

"This particular subject was inspired by you. I thought you might want to contribute to my studies." Was it his imagination, or was there actual amusement in Harry's voice when he said that? "I've taken up Occlumency, Potions Master. As you were so keen to see into my mind before, I thought you might like this chance to look. Without the retaliation that your previous actions inspired."

_He is laughing at me._

Anger sharpened his voice. "I don't need to look into your mind to know that you're insane. And being that I do have the warning I most certainly will not be venturing in there. I have no wish to become one of the unlucky few who lost themselves exploring the mind of someone like you. Insanity is a death trap for a legilimence." Severus wasn't about to take the risk. He had always been much better at occlumency than its opposite.

Harry's head tilted to one side for several seconds before righting itself. "I'd hardly call myself insane, Potions Master."

Severus scoffed. "Since you won't do it I'll do it for you. And why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because it's your title Potions Master Snape. Being as you're reluctant to help, perhaps you could point me in the direction of someone who will."

"Why do you want to have someone look into your mind now anyway? I received the distinct impression that you objected to that." Okay, so he was a touch bitter, but surely that was understandable considering the circumstances.

"There is only so much that one can learn out of a book without someone to examine the occlumency shield for weaknesses that could be missed. And what I object to is people I don't know trying magic I don't know on me without so much as a by your leave." There was a sharp undertone to those words that had Severus fingering his wand warily.

"Wait a minute. What do you mean 'magic you don't know?' You had a shield up that time."

"Until later that week I had never even heard of Occlumency. What you encountered was something entirely different." A small change in Harry's expression warned Severus away from asking about what it was that he felt.

"Well then," he said, clearing his throat, "Both the Headmaster and the Dark Lord are very proficient Legilimences. I doubt you will be going to the Dark Lord with an invitation to ruffle through your mind, so the Headmaster is your best bet."

"Thank you for the information, Potions Master," Harry said, turning to leave.

"Harry?" The boy turned back to him with an eyebrow raised, he didn't object to the familiarity though. "I. . . apologize." It took everything in him to get the words out, he was not used to admitting fault in anything, not out loud anyway.

Harry's mask fell out of its pleasant lines and cool green eyes examined him for several long moments. Then he inclined his head and approval softened his face.

"Accepted, Potions Master Severus Snape."

Severus waited till Harry was out of sight before pulling out his chair and sinking into it with a barely audible sigh.

_So that's what his real face looks like then._

He couldn't help thinking that it suited him much better than what he usually showed.

ECHP

Harry thought of what he just learned as he made his way to the library. Truthfully, he would never have asked Snape for help if Flitwick had been capable. It appeared that even though the charms professor was decent at occlumency, he was not so good a legilimence.

Flitwick, too, had indicated that Dumbledore was a good person to ask to examine his work so far, but Harry was not about to let that man into his mind. Ever.

_So Voldemort is good at legilimency as well then. I'll have to think about that. I could ask, but do I really want him running around in my head? _

In the ten days since he had found the cavern, he had gone through a good deal of his memories. He was not surprised that very few of them were truly happy, or that none of those involved the Dursley's. On the other hand, there were not many truly _unhappy_ memories after he turned six. Before that time he had wondered why they treated him so different from Dudley and had tried to get their approval. He had actually tried to volunteer to do some of the work that he watched Petunia do around the house, only to be rebuffed.

He never even remembered till he saw the memory that his first efforts to do well in class was _because _he wanted that approval. He always had been a bright child though. By the time his fifth birthday rolled around he had known that nothing he did would make Petunia and Vernon like him. Then he kept doing well as a way to show them that was better than their fat lump of a son. Shortly before he turned six, he realized that nothing he did would make him better than Dudley in their eyes. So he stopped worrying about them altogether and just turned his attention to finding a way to get away from them.

It had definitely been better for his state of mind to mentally disown them. They weren't worth consideration as anything more than obstacles in his path to greatness.

And he would be great.

Dumbledore was only another stumbling block in his path. Something to overcome. Xavier was a prestigious school with the children of prestigious people that he should now be making connections with. Instead he was here, in Hogwarts. That was alright though, as long as he kept up his work the Xavier name would still open doors for him. And he could still catch up with those he needed in university.

Even now, as he walked into the library and nodded to Su Li and Padma when he joined them at a table, the thought of 'Prime Minister Potter' gave him a warm fuzzy feeling on the inside.

ECHP

Sirius Orion Black exhaled slowly. He was sitting in the cluttered office of his former Headmaster, waiting for his godson to arrive.

He wasn't sure what to think of Dumbledore to be honest, but he wasn't inclined to be charitable. When he had been thrown unceremoniously into Azkaban a decade ago, he had been sure that it was just a matter of time until Dumbledore got him a trial where he could defend himself and testify to Pettigrew's betrayal. Instead days had passed, then weeks, and months. It had taken time, but he had to face the facts: he had been abandoned. Years worth of loyalty and the old man couldn't even be bothered to come and talk to him in person. Not even to ask why.

Sirius had spent years in that cramped cell, clinging to the knowledge that he was innocent of betraying his friends. Thanking his animagus form for the relief it brought from the dementors that patrolled the halls of the prison. Even the thought that he had left his godson to pursue the traitor did not cause quite as much guilt in his dog form. That Harry would live with Lily's friend Alice and her husband Frank only took the edge off the sharp pain that lashed at him when he stayed as a man.

His wait had ended two weeks ago when he had been dragged out of his place in Azkaban and taken to a Ministry holding cell. It had been days before anyone would tell him what was going on. He was finally getting his long awaited trial. Sirius had been brought in front of the full Wizengamot on what he later learned was Thursday night and dosed with veritaserum. What followed had caused an uproar as long held 'truths' were destroyed. Pettigrew had his Order of Merlin stripped and was declared 'dangerous and to be apprehended on sight.'

He was released later into the custody of St. Mungo's where he had talked to Dumbledore for the first time in ten years. Sirius could only be grateful that he had not heard about Harry's living environment before leaving Azkaban, he would surely have gone insane. Alice and Frank Longbottom were permanent residents of the hospital, only a floor below his. Lily and James' son had been living with Petunia Dursley. He could not think of a more unpleasant person than Lily's sister, and Harry had been living with her.

Merlin he was a failure. He had failed as a son, a best friend, and a godfather.

He sent a letter to Harry to introduce himself and ask for a meeting. The reply he had gotten back had seemed very bare and exposed nothing of the boy's personality. Sirius then spent the next week getting as well as a battery of nutrient potions and the constant monitoring and spells of the Healers could make him. He didn't want his godson's first impression of him to be of a vagabond. So while he wasn't at his best, he was a good deal better than he was when they pulled him out of Azkaban.

Now, waiting here for the Headmaster to return with Harry, he didn't know what to expect. What sort of person would come out of the open scorn that Petunia undoubtedly showed to her sister's child. Dumbledore had called him a nice boy, very quiet, and bright. What did that mean? Both Lily and James had been very spirited at that age. Did Petunia crush that out of him. He couldn't imagine the happy, active baby that he had held in his arms to be a wallflower.

He did not care what the Headmaster said, Harry was his godson and legally should be in his custody. Would have been in his custody if Dumbledore had done what he was suppose to as the Chief Warlock and forced a trial.

While in the Hospital he had gotten his hands on back and current issues of the _Prophet_. Dumbledore might have kept his position as Chief Warlock (he was too influential to be ousted just like that), but he was on shaky ground and not in a place to hold enough leverage to stop Sirius from removing Harry from Dursley custody. Blood protection or no blood protection, Lily would not want her son anywhere near Petunia. He only hoped that he was in time to reverse some of the damage.

Sirius stood up as the door opened, smoothing his new robes. The Headmaster came in first followed by a black haired youth in a blue long sleeved button down shirt and faded black jeans.

_Merlin, he looks just like his father._ The thought died a quick death when he saw nothing more than polite interest in the green eyes examining him. There was none of the lively mischief that he was used to from James, nor any of the good natured laughter from Lily.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore started eyes twinkling.

"Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter," he continued, twinkle dimming. "This is Sirius Black. He was one of your father's close friends, while he was in Hogwarts."

Sirius looked between the two. Harry's tone had been nothing short of polite, but there was a definite problem between them. _So his spirit isn't gone completely then._

"Harry," he said reaching for his godson, "Merlin I thought I would never see you again. I missed you so. . ." Sirius trailed off when Harry's face blanked briefly as he sidestepped his hands. "I. . . ahh. . ."

He was offered a small upward tilt at the corner of Harry's lips. "No one is quite that familiar with me," Harry said extending a hand. "It's nothing personal."

Sirius shook his hand smiling sadly. _I suppose it was sort of silly to expect him to just fall into my arms the first time we meet. First time he would remember anyway._

"Why don't the two of you have a seat and talk while I go," Dumbledore said, with the look of a proud grandfather as he turned, intending to walk to the door.

"Oh don't do that," Harry said, effectively stopping him. The Headmaster looked at him in surprise. "Harry, I assure you, Sirius would never do anything to harm you," he said throwing an apologetic glance at Sirius who recoiled in indignation.

"Now see here Headmaster. What the hell do you think you're getting at, suggesting that I would hurt my own godson?"

"I'm sorry Sirius, but Harry evidently needs some reassurance that he will be safe. I'm sure you wouldn't put your pride above that."

_Pride. How dare he? But then, what would Harry have heard about me. That I murdered thirteen people and caused the deaths of his parents._

It did not help that he did blame himself for James and Lily dying.

_If I hadn't suggested that they changed Secret Keepers they might still be alive now. Harry could have grown up with them and not with that. . .with Petunia. Even now after being proven innocent, am I really? I should never have let Hagrid take him from me. I already hurt him, Merlin, I've hurt him so much._

The sound of a clearing throat cause the two to focus on the child in question. One eyebrow was raised while he looked at them.

"I was merely going to suggest that instead of kicking you out of your own office, Mr. Black and I could explore the grounds while we got to know each other," came the dry, vaguely condescending voice.

Sirius laughed. There was no amusement in it, just bitter, angry, resentment. _Always so nice to know what others think of you. _

"Let's get out of here. It's been too long since I've walked around in the fresh air and sunshine."

They left the Headmaster looking after them, regretful and crestfallen.

"So," Sirius started a touch awkwardly, glancing at the youth beside him. "Ravenclaw then. You must like books."

"Indeed."

Sirius cast around for something to say while they navigated the corridors. What do you talk about with the godson you haven't seen in ten years after you abandoned him to the tender (nonexistent) mercies of his relatives.

"Do you like Quidditch?" he blurted out, before flinching. _Quidditch? Is that the best I could do?_

"I've never seen a game."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," he said with a strained laugh. Silence fell between them until they reached the castle doors. There were numerous students out on the grounds enjoying their weekend freedom from classes. Sirius' presence provoked a number of curious looks and whispers. "What _do_ you like?"

"I like to swim," Harry offered, "I find it relaxing. I also like the colour blue, and learning magic." He led them away from the students and close to the Forbidden Forest. Harry sat down in the grass under the shade of one of the trees. He gestured to the tree across from him in an offer for Sirius to sit.

"This place brings back memories. Your father– "

"Quiet," Harry said sharply, cutting off his reminiscing. He looked him over briefly and Sirius got the impression that he had been weighted and found wanting.

"You are my godfather, yes? Don't say anything, it was a rhetorical question. On October 31st you knew there had been an attack, yes? And my parents were dead. Then, on November 3rd you attacked Pettigrew, yes? Now, I was found dumped on the Dursley's doorsteps on the second of November, which shouldn't have happened, because you are my godfather and therefore my legal guardian. Explain yourself."

Sirius buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he glanced up pleadingly into pitiless green eyes. He got up and started pacing restlessly. "I didn't mean to. . . I. . .damn it."

He sat down again and looked at Harry.

"Back in school, me and James, we were best friends, you know. And with Remus and Peter we were unstoppable. The Marauders we called ourselves. Thought we were the best thing to happen to Hogwarts since the founding. We went through a lot together, the four of us. Then we graduated and James and I went through Auror training together and he married your mother. Then everything gets all messed up after we joined the war effort," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"You have to understand, the Death Eaters were causing so much destruction and because of those masks, no one knew who they were. They were turning our homes into battlefields. Anyone who didn't subscribe to their pureblood propaganda had to watch out. Then your mother got pregnant and I became their Secret Keeper. After you were born, we figured out that someone was leaking information to You-Know-Who. It could have been anyone. Close to that Halloween there was an attack where I almost got captured. I talked your parents into switching and not telling. It was all my fault. When I saw you there in the wreck of the house all I could think was that it was my fault. I should never have let Hagrid take you away from me, but I thought the Headmaster would keep you safe while I hunted down the traitorous rat.

"I thought you would be safe. I would never have let you go if I knew that he was going to bring you to the Dursley's. You have to believe me."

"What about this Remus character that was such good friends with you?"

"Remus Lupin. Well, when we were trying to figure out who the spy might be, there were some. . . circumstances, that put Remus on the list of possible spies. That's why we never told him about the switch. I don't know why he never got into contact with you. I sent a letter to him the same time I contacted you, but I haven't heard back from him.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," he said softly, staring at the ground. "It's all so wrong. I'm sorry." He rubbed his hand across his eyes.

"I know. . . I don't have the right. . . but can we get to know each other?" Sirius asked haltingly. "I thought it might be so easy you see. . . I used to imagine what you would be like. And you would be a prankster like your father. You looked so much like him as a baby. You were always into everything always laughing.," he stole a look at Harry's impassive face. "I. . .I don't even know if you," a bark of bitter laughter escaped him.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked running his hand across his eyes again. "I can't even forgive me."

Harry nodded slowly at him. "I'll have to think about what you said for a bit, but why don't you tell me a little about yourself in the meantime."

Sirius looked up at him hopefully, and smiled. He extended a hand, "Hi. I'm Sirius Black, it's nice to meet you."

Harry huffed softly in amusement, taking his hand. "Harry Potter, likewise."

ECHP

Harry settled into his bed for the night thinking about what to do with Sirius. He really was more displeased with his godfather than he was with Voldemort. True, Voldemort killed his parents, but that is the sort of thing he would expect from the Dark Lord.

Sirius had left his freshly injured godson to chase off after someone. Yes, Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters, but one would think that a newly orphaned infant would take the priority spot in his regard.

_If I were injured by the rat and he had the choice to take care of me or go after Pettigrew, which would he choose? _

_He's not reliable, and I don't know where his loyalties will rest in the future. We'll be exchanging letters over the next few weeks, so I can feel out his thoughts on that. I refuse to inherit my parents' place in this war._ _Until I have some sort of reassurance that he won't cause me trouble in the future he can't be trusted. _

_And I will need to have a few words with this Remus person. At least Sirius had an excuse for not getting into contact with me. Unless he's dead I want to know what Lupin's story is._

AN: Okay then. I doubt I'll be getting any questions about the meaning of this chapter title. If Sirius comes off a little angsty, well, he just spent ten years in Azkaban, and is just meeting the godson that he learned spent that time with someone he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, he has a right. Next chapter will cover the all important Halloween. I know a lot of you will be very irritated with me when you see what I have planned, but thems the breaks. Ja ne.

Time line so far

Sept 1: Harry reaches Hogwarts

3: First day of classes

4: Morning talk with V.

Evening confrontation with Sev.

5: Send to Gringotts for Black transcripts.

Flitwick gives Harry occlumency book

22: Amelia Bones contacted.

Rita Skeeter contacted

23: Rita starts campaign against Dumbledore

Sirius removed from Azkaban

Harry finds his memories

27: Sirius' trial

Oct: 3: Harry's talk with Snape

6: Sirius meets Harry


	12. v equals absolute d over t

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you faithful readers and reviewers.

Chapter 12: v ∣d/t∣

Hermione Jean Granger listened attentively as Professor Flitwick explained how to perform a levitation charm. She was sitting next to that dreadful pig of a Weasley. _Honestly, the way he goes at his food, anyone would think he hadn't eaten in years. _

When the students all had their feathers, she was about to cast her charm when she was distracted by the boy.

"_Wingardium leviosa_!" he said waving his wand futilely at the feather. He repeated this several times before she put a stop to it.

Hermione knew she was intelligent, very much so in fact. She made sure everyone else knew it too. Not that she meant to, things just slipped out sometimes. She couldn't stand it when her fellow students started spreading misinformation, so she corrected them when she knew the right answers.

"Your saying it wrong. It's _le-vi-_oh_-sa, _not _le-vi-o-_sah."

"If you're so smart then, why don't you do it," he snapped.

"Fine then. _Wingardium leviosa._" Truthfully, she was a bit nervous, they had gotten the attention of everyone in the room. She smiled though as the feather rose jerkily into the air.

"Good work Ms. Granger! Ten points to Gryffindor."

Hermione basked in accomplishment for the rest of the period, levitating the feather up and down while Weasley sulked next to her.

After class she was walking down the hallway, when she heard something that completely soured her good mood.

"It's _le-vi-_oh-_sa _not _le-vi-o-_sah. Honestly, she's a nightmare, no wonder she hasn't got any friends."

Hermione brushed past him angrily. _Just because the ignorant lout can't do well he has to put down those that can._

The laughter of the people who were supposed to be her house mates and 'family' here at Hogwarts hurt though. She was going to head to the library when she stopped herself.

_I really don't think I can stand to be around anyone right now. And worst of all, He will probably be there with his friends. _

Over the years she had tried to fit in, she really had, but the teachers and her parents were the only ones who never made fun of her need to _know. _She wanted to know what things were, and how and why they worked. Books and computers were the best places to find information and so she always focused on them.

It was an unfortunate fact that children were very cruel to those that were different though, and Hermione's tendency to recite information from the books she read was not appreciated. No one liked to be shown up after all. If she had been some sort of stunning beauty the isolation would have been markedly less, but she was only pretty at best. The size of her front teeth and her bushy hair overwhelmed that though. There had also been the few who pretended to like her to get to copy off her homework. She wasn't about to stand for that though, people should learn on there own. Hermione did not mind helping someone, but she drew the line at doing all her hard work and then allowing someone else to come by and just copy and pass it off as their own.

She wished for friends, but it was hard to trust that any offers were for herself and not because of what she could do for someone's class ranking. So the teachers became the ones she looked to for assurance in school and she always had her parents' approval.

There had been instances of odd things happening around her all her life, but most of it could be brushed off as coincidence. The time where Sandra, who had been making snide comments about her hair, tripped over nothing in front of her friends came to mind. So when Professor Sinistra had arrived on their doorsteps, her parents and herself had been skeptical. It had taken a bit to convince them that magic was actually real, though once she had Hermione had pleaded to be allowed to go to Hogwarts. Surely in a new environment she could start over and make some real friends.

After they visited Diagon Alley she had gone through her school books – and several more besides– to learn as much about the new world she had been invited to. Headmaster Dumbledore had been one of the most prominent figures that she had read about. He almost instantly became someone she wanted to emulate. Not only had he defeated a powerful Dark Lord, he had also discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood and was a published writer. In short, he was powerful and intelligent.

On the train, while helping Neville Longbottom, she had met Harry Potter, someone else who she had read about. He had looked rather average compared to what she had been expecting. Other than his scar, the only things out of the ordinary about him were hie eyes. He had surprised her when he raised doubts about the validity of the information in her books. It couldn't all be wrong though, there must be some magical means of recreating what had happened. Dumbledore himself was the person who originally told everyone what had happened after all, he must have had some way to know.

Her sorting had been satisfying. She had the courage to fit into her new House. The feeling didn't last though, by the time they had reached the dorms Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown were going on about how _cute _some of the boys were. It was way to early to be thinking about boys. The next morning they had offered her a make-over, which she refused. Looking back on it now, she could have slapped herself. The lecture she had given them on natural beauty was probably what had driven them away from her. Not that they would have been close, but at least she could have conversed with them occasionally.

Hermione had no friends in her House. It was the muggle world all over again only worst since this time she didn't have her parents there with her. Neville was just as much of an outcast as she was, but the only thing he was interested in were his plants. None of the older students would make friends with her either. She thought about making friends with Potter, but the House divides seemed so definitive. No one made friends outside of their Houses here. She didn't want to look even more out of ordinary by crossing the barriers that were put in place. Maybe she had made a mistake by rejecting the Hat's first choice.

She didn't even know if his offer was still on the table and did not want to seem desperate by going to him.

Hermione sighed. She needed to find somewhere to think.

ECHP

Harry was frowning and had been doing so all day. On anyone else this would not be noteworthy, but since the first night when he had glared at his house mates, not one had seen him express any negative emotions in public. Yet he sat in the festively decorated Great Hall frowning over his empty plate. He wasn't sad exactly, but he was in a contemplative mood not feeling very festive at present.

"Hey Potter," came a call from farther up the table, "Aren't you going to eat? Cheer up, you're bringing down the atmosphere."

Harry blinked slowly and looked up around him. Padma and Su who had put the clues together earlier in the day ate in somber silence across from him. Several other students about the three had caught the mood and ate quietly. He raised his eyes to the one who had spoken.

_Dirty blonde, brown eyes, upperclassman. Sackren, Bradley. Muggle-born._

"It is the tenth anniversary of my parents' demise. I am. . . less than happy." The blonde jerked back with his mouth opened in a silent "oh" of realization.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, "I didn't remember."

"That's alright," Harry returned, "I didn't expect you to." He lifted his untouched glass of pumpkin juice. "May the spirits of those gone rest in peace."

Sackren lifted his own glass respectfully, joined by those who had heard the conversation. "Here, here."

The moment was shattered when Quirrell threw open the doors and ran in. "Troll! Troll in the dungeons. Thought you ought to know." He then fell over in a faint.

Pandemonium broke out as the students began to scream and scramble out of their seats.

"SILENCE." The Headmaster's voice cut through all the noise and everyone turned to look at him. "Everyone sit down and do not leave the room. Prefects, is anyone missing?"

"Oh, no!" Lavender exclaimed, "Hermione isn't here. She was upset earlier and no one has seen her since."

"Is she the only one not here?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ravenclaws all present and accounted for," announced Predante, a seventh year prefect.

"Hufflepuffs all present and accounted for," said the Hufflepuff prefect.

"Slytherins all present and accounted for," came the Slytherin prefect's voice.

"Only Hermione is missing Headmaster," said a Gryffindor prefect.

"Alright then. Filius, Minerva, Poppy and Severus, come with me. Pomona keep an eye on things here. Let no one leave." With that, the five left.

Harry looked down at Quirrell's forgotten form as the whispers started. As the host began to move, he could practically feel the frustration rolling off him. Whatever Quirrell had hoped to accomplish was not going to happen with him surrounded by students.

Harry resisted the urge to snicker when two prefects, one from Hufflepuff the other from Gryffindor started to hover and aide the host.

_He must still be having trouble getting past the Cerberus. Probably not up to date on his Greek mythology. Ah well, maybe I should give him a hint. Nah, he's got all year, and if he ever bothers to ask I'm sure he could get a sedative from the potions master. _

Harry watched as Quirrell slapped the hands of the fussing prefects away and headed to the staff table.

"He must be ashamed," came Su Li's voice as she too looked at their defense teacher who was visibly disgruntled.

"What?"

"That he ran away instead of dealing with the troll. Some defense teacher he is," she said. Similar sentiments were being expressed in low voices all throughout the room.

"Hmm," was Harry's noncommittal reply.

_This is just too amusing for words._

ECHP

"Minerva, Poppy, I would like the two of you to try and find Ms. Granger. Severus, Filius, and I will search the dungeons– " Albus was cut off as the echo of a scream was dimly heard. "Never mind," he said as he started running with remarkable speed for someone his age.

"Trust a Gryffindor to be somewhere she shouldn't be at a time like this," Severus said as he ran.

"This is no time for your prejudice Severus. A student is in danger," Minerva snapped back at him.

"Well, if she had been at the feast like she should have, then she wouldn't be in danger now."

"You heard Ms. Brown, she was upset and probably lost track of time."

"Always making excuses for your precious Gryff– "

"You have no room to talk Severus Snape, what with the way you coddle your– "

"Would both of you be quiet," Filius snapped as they rounded a corner. A yelp filled with pain caused them to speed up as they approached a girls restroom. They came upon Hermione trying to dodge a mountain troll with what was obviously a broken leg. The destruction in the room suggested that she had been dodging for a while now.

"_Stupefy."_ Albus said, the red beam streaking out to hit the troll, which dropped to its knees. It shook its head and made to stand when Albus hit it again. This time it fell on its face and didn't get back up.

"Ms. Granger are you alright?"

Hermione just looked at them as if she couldn't believe they were real. She then fainted dead away.

"Oh dear," Madam Pomphrey said hurrying over to the downed girl. A few charms later she pronounced that Hermione just passed out from the stress. "The troll must have landed a glaceing blow. The break isn't bad and she'll be fixed up in a jiffy." Madam Pomphrey conjured a stretcher and levitated the girl on it before lifting the whole thing too carry to the Hospital wing.

"Trolls in the school, Albus! I told you that Stone would bring nothing less than trouble, but would you listen?

"The Stone. Severus, make sure that the troll doesn't leave here to go wondering," Albus said hurrying to a staircase followed by Minerva and Filius. The three made it to the room housing the Cerberus shortly and saw that it was undisturbed.

"I, too advised against housing the Stone here Headmaster," Filius said, "This is a place of learning, not a vault."

"This is the safest place for it– "

"Isn't this suppose to be a safe place for our students too," Minerva demanded, "There is already one student in the Hospital wing. What if she had died tonight?"

"Minerva, it will all work out, you'll see. Now, let's return to the Great Hall and tell everyone that it's safe."

Minerva huffed. Clearly dissatisfied, but realizing that they would get nothing else out if him. She spun on her heels and marched away.

ECHP

Hermione groaned as she woke, a dull pain in her leg reminding her of what happened.

"Uh," she mumbled as a beam of light hurt her eyes. She blinked the spots out of her vision and looked around the white room.

_This must be the Hospital wing,_ she noted taking in the neatly made beds.

Madam Pomphrey came out of her office and walked over to her bed.

"How are you feeling Ms. Granger?"

"Like I lost a fight with a mountain troll," she replied.

Light laughter came from the direction of the door and her eyes widened as she saw Headmaster Dumbledore come into the room.

"It's nice to see that your sense of humor came out intact, Ms Granger. I trust everything is alright?" The last was directed at the school nurse who nodded.

"Oh yes. As long as you take it easy today you'll be just fine Ms Granger, you can be out of hear for breakfast," the nurse said with a smile.

Hermione watched her go into her office before she turned to the Headmaster.

"Thank you for saving me sir. I'd hate to think what might have happened if you didn't get there when you did."

"As long as you are a student here, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I have no doubt that Professor McGonagall will be here soon enough, but would you mind telling me what happened yesterday?"

Hermione didn't know what came over her as she looked into the kindly blue eyes, but she just spilled everything that happened the day before as well as her doubts as to whether or not she belonged. It felt so good to have someone to talk to.

"I wish I had taken Potter up on his offer of friendship."

"Mr Potter you say. I suppose he would be a good friend to have," the Headmaster mused looking at her. "You know Ms Granger, you can come and talk to me anytime you want to."

"But aren't you too busy to worry about a first year student, Headmaster?" she asked, awed at the generosity of the man.

"Not really Ms Granger," he said eyes twinkling full blast. "It might be nice to talk to one of you young ones every once in a while. My office is on the north side of the seventh floor, I'm trusting you with this information, my dear." He got up and placed a hand on her shoulder, "You know, there is no rule against making friends in other houses. No one would mind. It might not be as easy as keeping friends in your own house, but if you can spend the time together then you should. Unity between the Houses should be encouraged. I can only hope that more inter House relations form."

"I'll do it," she said smiling at him.

_Imagine that, _she thought as he left the room,_ the Headmaster came to see me, and he invited me to talk to him if I ever needed to. Things are looking up. I have Transfiguration with Potter today too._ Her stomach growled reminding her that she hadn't had dinner last night. _As soon as I get out I'm getting something to eat._

ECHP

Voldemort seethed in the back of Quirrell's mind.

_Well that was a complete waste of time. Who knew the Old Bastard would be so logical about everything. Damn. I don't really want to expose myself to my servants before I've regained my power, but it might be worth it to contact Severus. He always was one of my most faithful._

Voldemort contemplated whether or not to just scrap the idea of getting the Stone. It wasn't needed. He already had all the components necessary to resurrect himself available at Slytherin Manor. The Stone however would cut his recovery time from two years to a little less than three months. The risk was worth it.

Severus wouldn't be available for the ritual, which would start on the 13th of November and continue for five days, but if he did expose himself, Severus could provide quality potions for the exhausting aftermath.

_Decisions, decisions. I'm in no hurry though. _

ECHP

Albus Dumbledore hid a smile when Hermione walked in for lunch with Harry and his little hangers on.

With the way that Harry responded to his presence, it really was best that he act through a patsy. Hermione had not been looked for, which is what made her so great. Originally he was only going to find out why she had missed the feast but then she reacted so strongly to a little push to tell the truth. She just dropped right into his hands. Harry already knew her and left an open invitation of friendship. He no longer had to worry about leading Harry around. Hermione could do it for him.

With the way that she felt about him now that he had saved her life personally, she would adore him forever. He had planted a suggestion that she come to see him at some point in the near future, once that first visit was over with she would feel more comfortable in his presence. The information he could glean from her mind would be invaluable when she started visiting him regularly. Just learning how Harry interacted with his friends when no one was watching would help him identify the type of person he was.

Hermione would be a spy that did not know she was a spy. It would make everything so much more reliable than filtering through personal prejudices that paying someone would bring out.

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily as he planned for the future.

AN: OK. A little shorter than recent entries. Hermione is a really difficult character to write. She is much more innocent than all the other players on the field. Next chapter you get more Sirius and Remus comes on stage.

The title is the first actual equation that I've put up. It's to calculate speed, it's for the scene where they are racing to reach Hermione. The v is the variable for speed not the same as the the **v** for velocity. The former is scalar the latter is a vector.


	13. bp equals 120 over 80

1I do not own Harry Potter.

Thank you to my faithful readers and dedicated reviewers.

Chapter 13: bp 120/80

Sirius sat at a table in a small café in muggle London. He had been glad to see that McKendrick's was still open. Other than a fresh paint job, the place really hadn't changed too much.

It had been one of Lily's favourite destinations.

He sighed over his cup of tea as he waited for his guest to arrive. The last two some months had been both good and bad for him. On one hand, he and everyone else had failed to find any sign of Peter Pettigrew. After ten years it was difficult to say whether or not the traitor was even alive. There had been false sightings of the man written to the Aurors that were in charge of finding him, but they were losing hope. There were just too many magical means of changing one's appearance and the only pictures they had for reference were a decade out of date. Peter's animagus form was no help. There were thousands upon thousands of rats in Britain. Besides, what sort of person would spend ten years as a rat?

On the other hand, he had been in constant contact with Harry, a box of every flavoured beans in and of itself. He sent a letter every week, sometimes telling stories about his and James' years in school. He paid particular attention to James' antics with Lily and some of the Marauders' more memorable pranks. He also told Harry about trying to fix up his old family house. The replies he had gotten back usually expressed pleasure at the tales and generally included anecdotes about some incident or other that happened over the week.

He was not sure what to do about Harry's custody. Technically, as Harry's godfather, and with him having no living magical relatives, Sirius could legally take him away from Petunia. He had been planning to do exactly that when he found out that his godson lived with her. Having met Lily's older sister and her vitriol before, he could not imagine that Harry would have had a happy childhood with her. Harry declining to stay with him for the winter holiday had him confused.

Sirius had thought that they were getting close, and so invited Harry to stay with him. It had been a letdown when Harry had declined. He had planned to ask Harry to live with him during the summer, but if he was happy living with his aunt then Sirius would not want to disturb that. He was mollified and a bit puzzled by Harry's promise to spend time with him on Christmas. If he liked Petunia enough to return for the holidays, why would he spend Christmas day with his godfather? If Harry had _invited_ Sirius to spend Christmas he would understand better, but he didn't.

Sirius sighed as the brown haired man he was waiting for came through the door, and put the puzzle aside until he picked Harry up in the Leaky Cauldron on the 24th.

ECHP

Remus Lupin pushed open the door to the café and looked around for one of his former best friends.

Sirius was looking, predictably enough, older than the last time Remus had seen him. What Remus wasn't as prepared to see was the haunted cast in his grey eyes. A mix of subdued fondness, hurt, anger, and accusation flashed across his face. That look made Remus feel guilty and ashamed.

Guilt and Shame were familiar friends to Remus.

When he was eight years old and had just gotten bitten, he had felt guilty because he was careless and went out on the night of the full moon. The feeling was joined by shame after the first time he changed. He would be a burden to his parents for years to come.

When he made friends with the three that shared his dorm, he had felt guilty that he was lying to them. When they had found out about his lycanthropy, he had felt ashamed that he couldn't keep such an important secret.

In his fifth year, he had felt guilty when James and Sirius were being complete berks, and despite having the authority to stop them, he sat by and did nothing.

After he graduated, he couldn't hold down a job due to his 'furry problem'. He had been ashamed of depending on James to support him.

Then James and Lily died. And Peter after them.

In his head, he knew he could not have known, but his heart told him that he should have been aware that Sirius was a traitor, that his Black blood would breed true.

Remus had gone to Dumbledore to find out about what would happen to Harry. He had objected to Harry being put with Petunia, but he could not offer anything. The Ministry would never have allowed him to claim guardianship of a child. Dumbledore had even warned him away from visiting. There were still Death Eaters around and, as a known friend of the Potters, he could be followed.

Remus had decided to leave the country. With no way to support himself, and nothing to stay for, he had traveled to Romania. The country's policies were much more creature friendly than Britain's. He had been very out of touch with Britain for the last ten years, so the letter he had received from Sirius had been a shock.

A month later and here he was, pulling off his winter coat and taking a seat across from the man he had thought deserved to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban.

"Hey Siri."

Sirius laughed softly, the haunted look never leaving his eyes.

"Remus."

There was a pause as a waitress came by to take their order. The werewolf stared down at his clasped hands unable to look into those accusatory eyes anymore.

"I'm sorry."

Those words could barely be heard over the background chatter of the other patrons.

"Did you really think that I would betray James and Lily?"

"They were dead Sirius, and you were their Secret Keeper. The Aurors found you laughing in front of a torn up street littered with bodies. What was I supposed to think?"

"I would never," he started angrily, only to stop as the waitress came back with Remus' tea. Remus thanked her before discreetly putting up a privacy barrier. Sirius glared at him, fisted hands resting on the table.

"I would never betray James. Never. You of all people should have trusted me enough to know that. At the very least you should have come to me to hear it from my own mouth."

"I said I was sorry. Sorry I didn't trust in your loyalty. Sorry that you spent ten years in Azkaban. And I'm sorry," Remus took a deep breath before hunching into himself, "I'm sorry, that none of you trusted _me_ enough to tell me that you were switching to Peter."

There was a measure of vindication in Remus as he watched Sirius physically recoil back from his last words. Sirius had no room to be talking about trust, or the lack thereof. It was the height of hypocrisy.

"What about Harry?" Sirius asked, recovering himself. "Do you know where he's been living?"

"With Petunia. Dumbledore told me."

"You allowed it to happen?" Sirius was getting himself worked up again. Remus knew he was just trying to distract himself from the implications at the end of the last subject. He would always get angry when he was losing an argument.

"There was nothing that I could do. The Headmaster said it was the safest place for him. Even if I had taken him, there was no way that I could have supported both of us. And it's not as if I were in the best frame of mind at the time either."

"Were you ever going to meet with him?"

"In the beginning, there was just too much of a risk that I would lead the Death Eaters straight to him. Then I left the country and it was a little while before I could take care of myself properly. By the time he was old enough that I could send him a letter that he would be able to read and understand, I didn't think that he would want to meet me."

Sirius bit his lips for a few moments. "I guess we both messed up, didn't we?"

"I guess we did. So, Peter then."

"Who would have thought, right?"

Remus relaxed a bit inside. They weren't back to what they used to be, not yet, maybe not ever, but the potential was there. It would take work on both their parts.

"How's the search going?"

Sirius adjusted the low ponytail his hair was in, frustration evident in every movement.

"It isn't. The trail is ten years cold. Unless he slips up there's no way that we can find him. I can't believe we were ever friends with that traitor."

Sirius sat back in his chair and looked at him.

"How long are you staying?"

"I can only stay a couple of weeks. Then I have to go back if I want to keep my job. My boss is out of town for a few weeks too. I just have to return and have everything in order before he comes back."

"What do you do?"

"I'm an archivist for a scholar. He always has books and scrolls coming in and out of his library. I think he might be meeting with the people he exchanges those books with. He gave all of us time off for as long as he's gone."

Sirius looked around briefly, then settled his eyes on Remus. There was a determination in them that put the werewolf on alert.

"Do you want to meet Harry?"

Remus stared down at the dregs in his cup. "Do you think he would want to meet me?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

He felt the slightest stirring of unease at the tone in Sirius' voice.

"What's he like?"

"Ravenclaw. With a presence you have to experience to believe."

"Ravenclaw? I would have thought –"

"Me too. Once you spend some time with him you'll understand why though. I'm going to meet him in the Leaky Cauldron on Christmas Eve. If you want to spend the holidays with us, I have more than enough space."

Remus looked at the Sirius' hopeful face and nodded. He didn't have much else to do in Britain after all.

ECHP

"I saw your mud-, muggleborn friend coming out of Dumbledore's office Thursday night."

Harry looked over at the man reclining in an armchair on the other side of his desk. Voldemort had taken to dropping by every week, either for conversation or just for the company. Most of their discussions centered around the Dark Lord and his travels before the war. He really liked to talk about himself, not that Harry minded. While Voldemort did not tell him exactly what rituals he learned and used on himself, the shade was a fascinating font of information on ancient magical societies. It went without saying that he was much more entertaining than Binns.

The first words out of his mouth this week surprised Harry though. Not because of the information in it, but because Voldemort chose to tell him. Harry would never have volunteered that sort of knowledge.

_He's been making recruitment noises lately. Maybe it's a show of support? Of course, if I'm being spied on, then he could possibly come under scrutiny. I still say Dumbledore already knows about him. This Granger issue is sort of aggravating though._

Hermione was getting along very well with Padma and Su Li. She had been thriving in the last few weeks, much happier than anyone had seen her since the beginning of school. Professor McGonagall's mind had been eased as one of her young Gryffindors went from lonely overachiever to a smiling child with friends.

Harry was less thrilled.

At first, it was just a matter of wounded pride. Where was the breakdown he had predicted? Isolating herself in the restroom should only have been the beginning, with Weasley's reported words as a catalyst. She should have become unhappier as time passed with a few more incidents of her shutting everyone out. The time she spent with her parents over the winter holiday should have been the lowest point, with her questioning if she should return at all. Only after the winter holidays should she have approached him.

Instead of following his time-line, what happens? She comes to him after a traumatic experience – one that should have had her questioning her stay even more – nervous, but _smiling_. What the hell?

"I know she sees him," he said, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "I followed her for two weeks after the troll incident. She was far too happy for someone who almost died."_ And I don't like being proven wrong. "_She spent a half hour with him on the second Friday. After observing her subsequent behaviour I'm not inclined to think that they were discussing me. The past few weeks have seen her researching transfiguration texts and writing essays that don't make it to McGonagall. Not that it matters with his reported legilimence skill."

"You shouldn't underestimate him. Dumbledore might come off a little eccentric, but he's a crafty old bastard when he wants to be. How do you even know what legilimence is, anyway? I didn't even hear about it until my fourth year."

"Let's just say that a certain professor teaches more than he thinks he does. As for Ms. Granger, she loves her authority figures entirely too much for me to trust her. It doesn't matter if she's telling him what I'm doing or if he's lifting the information out of her mind, she doesn't know enough now to be a danger. My aim to keep it that way will take some doing though, since he couldn't have chosen a better person."

"Are you sure about that?" Voldemort asked, raising one of Quirrell's eyebrows.

"Yes. I like Su Li and Padma well enough. They're nice to spend time with and while both of them want to know what I do on the weekend they don't pry. Padma is assertive and curious, but not pushy enough to ask and Su Li is just too shy. Granger isn't quite like that, and she wants to know everything. I place glamours on the pages of my personal books now. The ones I read around her all look like potion texts. It makes sense since I'm at the top of that class. If she had followed the time-line that I estimated this wouldn't be a problem since she wouldn't want to rock the boat –,"

"Wait, wait. Go back. What time-line?" Voldemort interrupted. Harry explained his original thoughts about the witch and her reactions.

"The fact that she is a muggleborn should have added to her feeling of loneliness. She only learned about the wizarding world this summer after all. If she returned to finish the year then she would have been too happy to have friends at all to risk antagonizing me about what I do in my spare time.

"Instead, a troll _somehow_," at this he threw a wry look at the shade, "manages to enter the school, whereupon she is saved by a team of professors led by our esteemed Headmaster. Then she shows up months ahead of schedule and nowhere near as tractable as she should have been. The reason I say Dumbledore couldn't have chosen better, is that she doesn't seem to understand that people – namely me – could voluntarily isolate themselves when they have friends. Padma and Su will let it go when I say I need time to myself. Granger wants to know why. I'd have cut my losses and sent her on her way if I could be sure that Dumbledore's next bid to get closer to me would be as easy to spot."

"You did tell her something, right?" Voldemort said, sitting up. "Please, tell me you told her something."

"Tch. I told her that I was use to being alone and needed the time to center myself."

"That's the best thing you could think of?"

"It fits with what Dumbledore saw of me this summer. It is also quite true, if not completely so. If Granger attempts to follow me, and I full expect that she will, there is no way that she can properly navigate the passages that I use to reach here. She could very well get lost in one of them."

Harry contemplated that thought for a moment. Several of the paths that he used had entrances that were only one way and the exits required tapping a stone with magic. It was only his ability to sense the different structure of the magic within the stones in question that had allowed him to leave those passages. Should Hermione follow him into one of those, she might just starve to death before she was found.

_Maybe I should leave her in one of them for a day or two. Just long enough for her to feel very sorry. That's not even factoring in the darkness. Sometimes I forget that someone else would need a light to move around. Granger has an above average core, but would she be able to hold the light spell for hours on end? It should be enough to cause some mental stress._

"I never use the same path to come and go on the same day," he mused quietly.

"You do realize that if she dies, Dumbledore could forbid anyone from using the hidden passages right?" Voldemort had been following Harry's line of thought, though he came to a different conclusion.

"I rather doubt he would be able to enforce that. And if I were to leave her in one of those it's not like anyone would know. I don't intend to leave her there for long. If she does it again though," Harry's face hardened, "well, anyone who follows me down dark corridors deserves everything they get."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair gestured toward him with a hand.

"Even if she just disappears, it could cause trouble for you if she expressed her intention to follow you to anyone. Deaths within the school are just trouble, especially when the Headmaster is involved. Believe me. I know what I'm talking about. Why don't you just lead her on a wild goose chase around the hallways?"

"Firstly, because it would just encourage her to follow me again. If I leave her in the cold and dark overnight, she'll think twice about doing a repeat performance. Second I don't like wandering the halls. The portraits talk too much. That's one of the reasons that I know the back ways so well. I like my privacy, surely you realized that there are no portraits in this part of the castle? I don't want them telling anyone where I frequent."

"What about me? Am I not intruding on your privacy?" Curiosity was evident in the question.

Harry sent him a cool look with a slight hint of amusement. "I rather doubt you'll be telling anyone."

Voldemort scowled at him briefly before turning the conversation back on track. "If you really want to travel that route, you have to be prepared to deal with the fallout. You might want to make friends with a few of those portraits too. They can be valuable sources of information."

"The fallout shouldn't be that bad on my side," Harry murmured, "After all, it would hardly be my fault if she gets lost while stalking me. I'm not supposed to _know _that she's there, right? Besides which, if a student disappears from the school this soon after that troll, Dumbledore will have more that me to worry about."

"I suppose you're right about that. So, since you've decided to commit to this course of action," the Dark Lord smirked at him, "are you going to stay here or visit your family over the holidays?"

Harry huffed at him. "Don't be ridiculous. I arranged a reservation at the Novotel months ago. There's a magical section there, you know. My relations and I are not close enough to celebrate any holiday together, but there's no way in hell that I am hanging around here. I'll be more than happy to get back to technology again."

"I still don't see how you could prefer the muggle world to the magical one."

"Give me a computer and a ball point pen any day."

"You have so much potential. It's a shame that you want to waste it. Wouldn't you want to be a part of restructuring an entire society? At my right hand, you can be great."

"I don't think I will be wasting my potential, just directing it elsewhere. I feel that my drive will not be well served by staying here. Who knows, maybe I'll travel like you did for a while. It'll be years before I could significantly contribute to any society."

Voldemort, giving up his recruiting pitch for now, rose from the armchair and got ready to leave.

"This upcoming week is all school and I won't get the chance, so, happy Christmas and enjoy your new year."

"Happy Christmas to you too."

ECHP

"You won't believe what I heard last night," Hermione whispered.

It was the last day before the students would be leaving the castle, and the end of Transfiguration signaled the end of the last class of the year for the first year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Hermione, who had been bursting with energy all day finally got a chance to tell them what was going on with her.

Padma and Su moved in closer as they walked. They had never seen Hermione act like this, and were curious as to what caused the girl to behave like a gossip with the juiciest scoop ever. Harry, following behind, paid attention as well.

"What happened?" Padma asked.

"Well, I was close to the Gryffindor dorms when I heard what sounded like arguing. It was Professor McGonagall, with Professor Dumbledore, and Rubeus Hagrid," Hermione paused to make sure they were all understanding.

"Who's Rubeus Hagrid?" Su gasped.

"He's the groundskeeper. You know, the big guy," after they nodded, she continued. "Hagrid was saying that Fluffy was a bit down about being cooped up inside all the time. Professor McGonagall asked how he could know what 'that monstrosity' was thinking," Hermione made sure to include the air quotes.

"Anyway, Hagrid says that Professor McGonagall had no right to call Fluffy a monstrosity, that he was 'harmless and just misunderstood.' So Professor McGonagall says that a three headed dog with three mouths full of teeth is not very hard to understand, and that it had no business being in a school. Then Professor Dumbledore chimes in and says that Fluffy was necessary for the protection of the stone. That's all I heard before they went into his office."

"They have a three headed dog in the school," Su Li whispered harshly as they reached the Great Hall. "Do you know how dangerous that is? What if somebody stumbles into it?"

"How much do you want to bet that it's on the third floor corridor that we aren't supposed to enter?" Padma returned. "The Headmaster did say that we should stay out unless we want a gruesome and painful death."

"I'm more interested in the stone that it's guarding. Is it a jewel or something. It must be very valuable for the Headmaster to keep it here, right? Do you think the troll on Halloween was someone trying to steal it?"

The three of them huddled together at the end of the Ravenclaw table while Harry looked on with well hidden amusement. He sat across from them as they theorized about what sort of stone could be valuable enough to require the sort of protection that Hogwarts offered.

"Harry," Padma hissed at him, "Aren't you in the least bit curious?"

"Not particularly, no," he said raising an eyebrow at the three of them.

"Not even a little bit?" Hermione voiced, incredulous.

"Look at it this way, even if you think you know what sort of stone it is, what are you going to do with that information? And how would you prove it? You can't ask a teacher, because you are not supposed to know about it. The mystery stone is sufficiently protected where ever it is, so there is no point in me caring."

"Oh, come on Harry. It's nice a puzzle, and it will be fun," Padma said.

"We're leaving tomorrow. Whatever puzzle you want to solve will have to wait till you get back."

"Uh. You are so stuffy. Fine then, we'll just have to do it without you." Harry rolled his eyes at Padma's declaration. With any luck they wouldn't run into Voldemort while they were at it.

ECHP

Harry sighed, almost soundlessly. All four of them were in a train car, and the other three were throwing around ideas for the stone. He tuned them out and flipped through his runes book. The ride in the supposedly 'horseless' carriages had been interesting, if only because of the Thestrals.

It had been fascinating to be able to feel the magic pulsing along with the creatures' blood, outlining where the animals were and still be unable to see them. He also noted that Thestrals had a different magical arrangement than wizards. A wizard had a central core at chest level which released an aura that flared, saturating the entire body and stopping just beneath the surface of the skin. There was also some leakage that occurred regularly that mingled with the ambient magic in nature. Thestrals did not have that center core. Harry could feel the magic emanate from every part of the creatures, down to the strands of their manes. He supposed that was what made then _magical _creatures.

About halfway through the ride, Draco Malfoy invited himself into the compartment, silencing the girls who had progressed to discussing holiday plans. He had his two bookends plus one more with him. The dark toned skin with slanted brown eyes and distinctive cheekbones, identified the lesser known Slytherin as Blaise Zabini.

There really had not been much conversation between Malfoy and himself. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Harry had not spoken much with his peers in general. Following Padma, Su, and Hermione, the person he talked to the most was Voldemort.

_Huh. How's that for perspective. _

"How may we help you, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini?"he asked over the top of his book.

"Hello, Potter," Malfoy sneered as his eyes lingered on Hermione. "I see your taste in company hasn't improved. Hanging around with a mudblood."

"Now, now, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said serenely, adjusting his glasses as Hermione swelled up with indignation, "There's no need to be rude here. It is, after all, unbecoming of one of your station to be so publicly. . . crass."

Padma, Su Li, and Zabini smirked while Malfoy blushed.

"I am Blaise Zabini, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Hogwarts' very own Enigma."

"Harry Potter. My companions are Miss Padma Patil, Mis Su Li, and Miss Hermione Granger," Zabini inclined his head in acknowledgment to the three, pausing only slightly when he came to the muggleborn. Harry allowed some query into his voice as he continued, "Enigma?"

Zabini snickered. "Not many know too much about you, Potter, and the ones that do," at this he looked about pointedly at the girls, "are not talking."

"I'm a very private person, Mr. Zabini."

"A lot of people think that you're a snob. You don't talk to anyone, barring the odd greeting."

"A lot of people aren't important enough for me to care what they think."

The Slytherin laughed. Malfoy, not content to let Zabini direct the conversation piped in.

"You are definitely not what everyone expected. We all thought that you'd take the position of Gryffindor Golden Boy, not a bookworm Ravenclaw."

"Tch. I'm sure shattered dreams were left in the wake of crushing disappointment."

"And a lot of lost gallons." Zabini agreed.

"Assumptions can be costly things," Harry said, lowering his tone slightly. It would be amusing to see what the Slytherin made of that.

"So they can," Zabini said, his forehead creased. He stared at Harry's face, but got nothing from the small smile. "You're alright in my book Potter," he indicated, stepping out of the compartment, "See you in the new year."

_And then there were three._

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry said to the blond, who made no move to leave.

"You're interesting Potter."

"Thank you."Polite and bland as ever.

Malfoy blinked at him, sure he had been insulted in some manner, but unable to tell pass the words and tone. The blond nodded to him before looking at the others in the compartment.

"Patil, Li," he paused, grimacing, before jerking his head stiffly, "Granger." With that he took his bodyguards with him and left, shutting the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" Hermione, still smarting from the mudblood comment, demanded.

"Zabini was scouting, and Malfoy was just being Malfoy," he answered.

"What?"

Confusion doused what was left of her anger.

"I'm sure by now the story of what happened is making the rounds with the Slytherins. My reaction will be the object of much scrutiny, and when school starts again, I will probably be approached by several more Slytherins," he put his attention back to his book and commented absently, "Should be interesting."

"Malfoy likely won't call you a mudblood again in public though, so something good did come out of his visit," Su Li said.

Harry glanced up to see her looking between Su and himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Noble pureblood families are all about poise and etiquette. The term 'mudblood' is derogatory and not something that you should say in public. No matter how much he might agree, Malfoy, as a heir of one of these families shouldn't be saying it so casually out in the open."

"You mean to say. . .?"

Su nodded. "Harry told him that he was behaving like he had no class."

"How do you know all this?"

"My father is fairly high up in the Ministry. Sometimes we have to go to events and mingle. My father's family might not be nobles like the Malfoy's or," she nodded toward Harry, "The Potters, but they are respected purebloods. My father caught a lot of flak for marrying a muggleborn, but since he wasn't the heir it wasn't as bad as it could have been."

Hermione turned to Padma. "You know all of this too?"

"Of course. My parents can prove Indian pureblood ancestry going back three thousand years. They only sent me and my sister to Hogwarts because they are spreading out the family to make more contacts. The two of us had to learn the rules of etiquette to not offend prospective friends. We have an older brother who goes to Durmstrang."

"You never told us that," Su accused.

"British wizards act very strange when they hear that someone in your family goes to Durmstrang, so I didn't tell you when we first met. After that it never came up."

"Why would there be problems with having a brother in Durmstrang?" Hermione asked.

"Britain claims that Durmstrang is a breeding ground for dark wizards," Padma explained to her, "So saying that someone in your family goes there is equated to them being 'dark', and in Britain dark equals evil."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

"So, what about you?" Hermione asked, turning to Harry. "You grew up in the muggle world, how did you know how to behave?"

"Manners have always been very important for me to learn. A book on etiquette was one of the first things I bought."

"May I borrow it?"

"I'll send you a copy for Christmas."

Harry tuned out her thanks and remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

When they pulled into the station, Harry bid his friends farewell and made his way off the train. He was surprised when he spotted Sirius waiting on the platform with another man, evidently waiting for him.

Sirius was dressed in expensive, top quality linen slacks and a silk shirt, holding a full length coat and a scarf over his arm. In contrast, the stranger was in sensible trousers and heavy jumper over a long sleeved cotton shirt. He too, was holding a winter coat in his arms.

Harry walk up to the two his trunk shrunken and tucked into his coat pocket, messenger bag resting on his thigh.

"Harry," Sirius visible checked himself to stop from reaching for him. "It's good to see you again. This is Remus Lupin," he said gesturing to the man. Remus stepped forward.

"It's nice to see you after so long," he said holding out a hand.

The green eyed boy was only barely paying attention. As he had moved closer, he felt something that was completely new.

_What on earth is going on with him? It's a bit hard to tell through the surrounding magic, but it feels like Lupin's core has an addition to it._

He examined Sirius' magic then Remus' after it.

_Yes, there is something extra in Lupin's. Something interesting._

It was only when Remus shifted uncomfortably and retracted his hand, that Harry realized that he had not responded in time. Ignoring the sadness and discomfort in the man's face , he met Remus' eyes and decided to satisfy his curiosity.

"Do you have some sort of magical illness?" Harry wanted to smile when Remus took a step back and his heartbeat picked up.

Remus exchanged shocked looks with Sirius. "Um, something like that."

"Really?" Remus backed away another step at the glint in the green eyes.

"So how long have you –"

"Harry!"

Schooling his face into it's usual polite lines, he turned to face Hermione who was hurrying toward him with her parents in tow. Displeasure spiked through him as his speci-, godfather's old friend, took the opportunity to shuffle slightly behind the Black Lord.

_That's alright though, I will undoubtably get another chance to examine him. Why he never got in contact with me is suddenly much more important than it used to be. Smart money says that his illness had something to do with his absence._

"Harry, these are my parents Sarah and Michael Granger. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter."

Harry made sure to inject some warmth in face as he smiled at her parents.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Granger," he said, shaking the hand of the man. Michael Granger was a tall man, with narrow shoulders. With his hair cut short it was difficult to tell, but Hermione probably got hers from him.

"I'm enchanted, Mrs. Granger," he said brushing his lips over the back of her hand. Sarah Granger had a pleasant face, not too remarkable, but it never hurt to be flattering.

"Such a little charmer you are," she said laughing.

"He gets it from his father," Sirius announced with a smile.

Harry turned to his godfather and beckoned him forward. "Everyone, this is my godfather, Sirius Black and his friend Remus Lupin. Sirius, Mr. Lupin, my friend Hermione Granger and, as you know, Sarah and Michael Granger."

Two rounds of handshaking later, the Grangers left through the portal into muggle London and Harry started that way as well.

"Are the Dursley's waiting for you on the other side?" Sirius asked, following behind him. "I wanted to meet them."

"Why would the Dursley's be waiting for me?" Harry asked in confusion, walking through the portal. His mind was already on the attachment that rested next to Remus' magical core.

_Is it like a tumor? And does it make it harder for Lupin to do magic? _

"So you're going to travel to Surrey on your own then?" Remus stated in disapproval as he came through, pulling on his coat as he did so.

"How could you have possibly gotten the idea that I would spoil my holiday by spending it with the Dursley's?"

Harry navigated his way through the pre-holiday crush until they reached outside. The afternoon sky was overcast and dirty snow crunched underfoot. He set off at a brisk walk, the bracing winter air not affecting him in the slightest. Remus pulled his coat shut tighter and pushed his gloved hands into his pockets.

"Where are we going, then?" Sirius demanded, donning his coat and scarf.

"_I,_ am going to my hotel."

"Hotel!" Sirius exclaimed in concert with Remus.

"There's more than enough space at Grimmauld Place for you to stay, why didn't you say yes when I asked you to?" he continued alone. "You know, if you don't like me then you could just say so."

"Sirius," Harry stopped walking and turned to pin him with a cool, disdainful stare. "My reservation for the Novotel was made long in advance of your invitation. I have plans for the upcoming week that were made months ago. It has nothing to do with you."

Holiday shoppers were forced to walk around the three that were now standing in silence.

"Oh," Sirius said awkwardly, looking down at the street. Harry turned around and set off again. Within several minutes, they stepped into the decorated lobby of the hotel. Harry, having never paid much attention to the day, save for marking it as another where Dudley received a mountain of presents, dismissed the cheerful atmosphere from his mind as he walked up to the reception desk.

A short wait later had him in front of a young blonde woman wearing a 'Nadine' name-tag. She looked at Sirius walking behind him before turning a rather condescending smile in his direction.

"Welcome to the Novotel. How may I help you today?"

Harry smiled politely, before saying in an equally condescending tone, "Please tell Zadriel that Harry James Potter is here to see him. He should be expecting me."

Nadine blinked at him and then at the two silent adults behind him, but did not protest as she picked up the phone to call in.

_Stradruk did say that this hotel catered to magical creatures and those that didn't want to mix with most other wizards. The three of us are probably not the strangest group she's seen asking for Zadriel. I do wonder why Stradruk said that a conversation with this man would be enlightening though._

"Okay then, you're all set. If you would step to the side Mr. Novak will–"

"Thank you Nadine," a smooth voice interrupted. Harry looked at the well dressed man that was walking toward the desk and immediately resolved to talk to Stradruk about his sense of humour.

The dark haired, pale skinned being that was heading toward him gave off the same feeling of magic that the thestrals did, but much more prevalent in his blood.

Which flowed along with no heartbeat whatsoever.

_I guess a vampire would have a lot to say that would seem enlightening to me._

AN: The end of another chapter. Next up: a heritage ritual and Sirius' insecurities. Also, remember that shield over the Dursley house? It finally gives out, alarming Dumbledore.


End file.
